


Bittersweet

by lachlanrose



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Drama, F/M, Pathos, Rogan, Smut, UST, adult, shipper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-13 03:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 98,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachlanrose/pseuds/lachlanrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little girls don't stay young forever. Marie grows up. Logan deals. Tequila happens. <i>'Life is a long road full of many unseen twists and turns, bringing with it both the bitter and the sweet.'</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine. Never were. Never will be. ((sigh))
> 
> Feedback: Yes, please! With a shot of Logany goodness on top? ;) The good, the bad, the ugly...
> 
> Notes: This one is a slow burn with lots of UST and an eventual flashover that (I hope!) peels the paint from the walls. This is the first W/R story I ever wrote. (A dozen years ago now. Whoa!) It's not my most complex work, but it's full of shippery goodness and a freaking truckload of fresh citrus. Fingers crossed that you enjoy this new (and hopefully improved!) version of the fic that started me down that long road to what can only be called obsession. :) For those of you who like a heads up, this one clocks in at 24 chapters, so grab your favorite sweet treat and get comfy!

_Life is a long road full of many unseen twists and turns, bringing with it both the bitter and the sweet._

Logan had been back at the school nearly four months now. Marie had missed him that year he was away searching for answers about his past. She hadn't wanted him to go, but it was easier in some ways, even though she missed his surly amusement and irascible nature. For a while, she'd needed time more than she needed a friend. That distance gave her the space she needed to sort him out in her head. He was still in there along with Magneto and David, but they didn't threaten to overwhelm her like they used to. She had dealt with their presence the best she could by separating them out in her head. She thought of them like boxes on a shelf.

In the beginning it was all she could do to get the right person's thoughts into the right box. She and the Professor worked in daily sessions for those first six months. Once she had gotten everyone's thoughts organized, she took stock of what she had. In her head, she imagined shelves with a few boxes for David and maybe fifty or so for Magneto, but Logan was different. She had a whole library of boxes just for him. Maybe it was because her own life force was so drained each time they had touched, or maybe it was because they had touched twice, or maybe he was just more complicated than the other two. Perhaps it was because of the sheer number of years on him. He simply had more to pour into her; a well that was nearly bottomless and a mutation that filled it almost as quickly as she could empty it.

Almost.

When she was ready, she worked through the boxes pulling them down one at a time and sifting through the thoughts they contained, assimilating or deleting or filing them away for further reflection. The Professor was proud of her. She had worked her way through all of David's boxes and he was just a fleeting presence in her mind now. Recently she has finished off the last of Magneto's boxes as well; a long and difficult process. The boy who could control metal had his own catalog of horrors. She could see how the brash young man who pulled a submarine from the depths of the ocean had become the monster who'd had no qualms about raping her mind to further his cause. There was understanding but not forgiveness.

In that, she and Logan were in perfect agreement. Anger burned hot and strong.

Most of Logan's boxes were gone now too. There were a few dozen left that she hadn't touched. Some thoughts of his she just wasn't ready to deal with yet. Maybe she would never be ready. Maybe those last boxes would just sit on that shelf in her mind gathering dust. Marie was okay with that. Having a bit of Logan left in her head was almost comforting as long as she didn't think too hard about what kind of thoughts those last few boxes contained.

Fingering the tags around her neck, Marie smiled as she looked out her window at the snow-covered grounds of the school. In the time that Logan had been back, they had fallen into a comfortable friendship with each other. He was still Logan, gruff and bristly as ever. Marie grinned wider. He still thought Scott was a dick and he still flirted with Jean because he could, because she liked it, and because it annoyed the black leather Boy Scout, but even that had mellowed slightly since Jean and Scott had married and Logan had assumed a position as a "guest lecturer" in a special class teaching unarmed combat and self defense.

Logan was still the one person she felt the most at ease with in the entire school. With him she could just be Marie. With everyone else she was Rogue, the nice but untouchable girl. Logan didn't pull back when she came near or watch her with wary eyes if she came too close without her gloves on. The others had never really gotten over the fact that she'd nearly killed the Wolverine. Twice. While it did wonders for her reputation, it did little to foster close friendships with kids her own age. Even among them, she was still a freak among freaks; a halfling caught between two words. The adults saw a girl. The kids saw a freak. They all felt like children to her. She'd lived the history Scott taught. Wars and internment camps and a number burned into her flesh. Sometimes she felt a thousand years old.

And sometimes she felt seventeen.

They did a lot of talking in those first few weeks after Logan came back. Well, mostly she talked and he listened. He was easy to talk to; a beer dangling from his long fingers and the rich, sweet scent of tobacco calming her. Perhaps it was because they were kindred spirits. In their heart of hearts, both of them believed themselves to be broken, unworthy of the kind of love they saw others sharing. Somehow, in each other's company, the road didn't seem as lonely as it had in the time before.

They made an odd couple, the King of the Cage and the slip of a girl on the verge of becoming a woman. Marie wondered if that was why things had gone so smoothly between them. She had just turned seventeen, still young enough for Logan to convince himself she was just a kid.

Marie's smile faded.

Perhaps that was the reason for the easy camaraderie they shared. Logan didn't see her in any sort of sexual way. To be fair though, until recently, Marie hadn't seen herself in any sort of sexual way, either. She guessed it was because if nobody else could or would touch her, she had no reason to think about herself as touchable. Until recently, it had seemed silly to waste time dreaming about the impossible. She had spent so much time and energy working out the thoughts and memories of the men in her head, she had little time left to work on Marie.

_Yeah, well that's just fine and dandy, Marie... not only are you a mutant with untouchable skin, you're also a late bloomer._

Marie sighed softly and shrugged her shoulders.

But nothing stays the same forever. Marie knew that her growing up was going to change her relationship with Logan. Not that the relationship was simple now, but it was about to get infinitely more complex. She knew no matter what changes their lives went through they would always be close. That was inevitable. On some level he was aware that she had seen into him - seen the _real_ him, although he had no idea to what extent and she had never told him, he knew that despite that unvarnished look at the man he hid from the world, she still wanted him around.

That simple truth astounded him.

Logan still wondered about that, how such a green girl could accept who and what he was when he still had trouble with it himself. Jean was wrong. It wasn't a crush. It was acceptance. Unconditional and without reservation. Something infinitely more terrifying. He thought a lot about it these days, mostly while he was sitting in some dive bar having a beer. When he had worked up a good enough mad about it he would climb in the cage, take a few punches and kick a few asses. That usually made him feel better. It never changed anything, but sometimes he just needed an outlet to pour himself into. Sweat and blood and pain, as familiar as old friends. Bloodlust. Carnal lust. Strong whiskey and the brief adoration of women he forgot before his skin had even dried.

They had never talked about their bond with each other. It was just a given. Logan knew she loved him. Nobody could have that kind of blind acceptance without love. Marie knew he loved her because nobody willingly offered their life for someone unless some kind of love was involved. Neither of them wanted to explore exactly what kind of love it was. It was a precious gift neither of them took for granted and both were desperately afraid to lose.

For now they were both content to let the fragile peace to continue. It wasn't always easy, but it was… safe. Marie didn't push him into accepting her growing up and Logan never ever let himself think about Marie as anything other than a kid. It wasn't the most healthy relationship, but it kept everything safe. If he could only freeze her like this always in his mind, maybe he could hold on to the sense of normalcy their relationship afforded him. It was only that first time he saw her that he had let his thoughts run in another direction.

He had just sat down at the bar when he noticed that something smelled good, fresh and pure. Lush. It registered in his mind that a smell like that certainly didn't belong in a place like this. He let his glance slide over in the direction of the scent.

_Ummm... slim body, nice long legs. I'd liketa feel those legs wrapped around me. Petite. Strong. Looks a little wild around the edges._

Damn.

He approved.

Long, shiny hair he could easily picture curled darkly around his fist, spread across his sheets, or dragging across his skin in a river of chestnut silk. His body tightened in anticipation. Her scent was luscious. It tickled some primal place deep in his brain. On rare occasions he ran across a woman who elicited such a carnal response in him, but this was the first time it had been twined with a strange protective urge. He had a possessive streak a mile wide but protective? That was new. And somewhat disconcerting. He wanted to see her eyes and when she turned to look at him he tensed.

_Whoa... too young. Way, way too young, bub. I really am a bastard to have been thinkin' 'bout her that way. Get your shit together, Wolverine. Jesus, she's just a kid._

Just a kid with big, expressive eyes, dainty hands and a mouth built for sin; full and red and wet. It was a fuck-me mouth if he'd ever seen one and that bothered him. It was both very wrong and very, very right. He had too many miles on him for innocence to fire his blood.

He took another long pull on his beer and firmly squashed whatever attraction he'd felt for the girl. He wasn't attracted to girls. He liked women. Hell, he loved women. The way they looked and moved and smelled. He especially loved women when he was unwinding after a night in the cage. Fighting always brought the animal in him closer to the surface and women always responded to it. Maybe they could sense it. Who knew? Idly he wondered what the kid would look like in a few years, if she would be one of the ones who could sense it.

Marie had been aware of him too. She had watched him fight and had taken in the long muscled lines of his heavy fighter's body. She was young, but she wasn't dead. The old memory made her laugh. Even then she'd thought he had a nice ass. But that was neither here nor there. What she'd noticed most while sitting next to him at the bar was that he seemed lost. She was sure he wouldn't appreciate that sentiment now, any more than he would have then.

_No, it definitely wouldn't fit with the whole 'I'm a big, mean, untouchable badass' thing he has going on._

Marie snorted.

She may have been young, but she wasn't an idiot. Eight months alone on the road had developed her ability to read people quickly and accurately. She was aware of his interest in her and also aware of the exact moment he figured out she was too young for him to comfortably think about in that way. She'd seen the smoldering golden light in his eyes die and his face become cold and hard. She knew he wouldn't be comfortable with her in any other role than as a kid so in the beginning she had played that up to put him at ease.

It wasn't a stretch really, after all she was just a kid... mostly... and it was the only way he would accept a relationship between them right now. It was a sacrifice Marie had been willing to make then, but even the most powerful mutants couldn't stop time.

Little girls don't stay young forever.

* * *

 


	2. Solitude

Everything started to change when Marie got her own room at school. The Professor had told her that in the beginning he had wanted her to share a room because he felt it would give her a sense of normalcy. He didn't want her thinking that he had isolated her because of the extreme nature of her gift or because he was afraid of her hurting someone.

Now that she had gotten a handle on the people in her head, he wanted her to have some space to get to 'know herself', whatever that meant. He told her he wanted her to be able to be comfortable going about her daily tasks like any other person; taking off her gloves and socks or wearing shorts without the fear she would harm someone. He seemed to think that accepting herself simply as a person would help her find a way to control her gift.

She hoped he was right.

Ever a man of caution, the Professor had prudently given her a room on the same floor with Storm, Jean, Scott and Logan. He explained that while he wanted her to feel safe to remove her gloves, he also had a responsibility to see to the safety of the other students. He felt there was less of a chance of an accident this way with her room out of the student's wing.

Marie agreed completely.

She'd lived with Kitty and Jubilee for more than a year. Kids were always coming and going, playing pranks, being crazy, excited to share the latest gossip or in a rush to get a forgotten book before class. She wouldn't feel comfortable exposing more skin if she knew someone could burst in her room at any moment or surprise her while she was sleeping. Somewhat stiffly, he also mentioned that the rooms in this floor had private ensuites so she wouldn't feel it necessary to put her gloves and scarf back on to make a trip down the hall to use the facilities like she did in the student's wing.

Marie was both thrilled and apprehensive. She would miss her roommates, but the thought of her own room was pretty exciting. At school, any sort of private space was always at a premium. The rooms with their own bathroom attached were always the most coveted. No more listening to her drunk roommate throw up in the trashcan at three in the morning. No more waiting for Kitty and Pete to finish screwing in the shower so she could brush her teeth. No more close calls. Sometimes even Aunt Flo trumps a crappy mutation. Never get in the way of a girl in a hurry with a tampon in her hand. Live and learn. It had certainly been an experience.

While the thought of a private room excited her, she was worried about exposing more of her skin. She figured if the Professor wasn't worried about it, and it was just within the confines of her own room, she could screw up the courage to try it. The others had all been told about it and had been warned about catching her off guard. They were just as eager to avoid being touched as she was. It was a trade-off of sorts. She got a nicer room, but she was there to work through her biggest fear. It was going to be so much harder to work through this than it ever was to work through the people in her head.

The thought of that much naked skin was sensual and exciting but also uncomfortably terrifying. Not just because she might hurt someone, but because touching them hurt her too. The violent influx of a new consciousness made her head throb and her stomach churn. For a long time the layers made her feel safe, kept her apart physically and emotionally from everyone.

Well, everyone except Logan. He didn't read social cues like everyone else. Either that or he just didn't give a fuck.

Marie smiled.

The fact that the Professor had assigned her the room across the hall from Scott and Jean hadn't escaped her notice either. It didn't surprise her that he was well aware she spent many late nights in Logan's room talking or just hanging out. Logan's room was just two doors down from hers now. She guessed that the Professor figured that if Scott and Jean were across the hall that nothing inappropriate would happen.

_As if anything was going to happen at all_. Geez. _Who's gonna touch me, anyway? Besides, the only person I want touching me thinks I'm just a kid._

In fact, the basis for their entire relationship, whole house of precariously stacked cards, had been built on that one premise and she couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen when he realized things were beginning to change.

She was changing.

She _had_ changed.

He just hadn't noticed.

Yet.

So that was how Marie came to have her own room that January she was seventeen. It was a blessing in more ways than one. Graduation was just six months away and it was a lot easier to study without all the commotion and noise found in the student's wing. Marie didn't realize how much she had missed having her own room. The Professor was right. She wouldn't have been comfortable going gloveless or sockless or anything else unless she had a truly private space. The idea of having that much freedom was beginning to excite her and the allure of naked skin during a sweltering New York summer was slowly becoming more and more seductive.

Even Logan took the move in stride. She had talked with him about the Professor's idea that controlling her gift was somehow tied to her accepting it as a part of herself. If she could forget just for a little while that her skin was the way it was, maybe she could find the key to controlling it. Logan agreed, though she sometimes wondered if he was behind the move because he really thought the idea would work or because he just liked having her close and under his watchful eye. He'd never said and there were some things even she knew better than to try to drag out of him.

He knew how much she wanted to be able to control her gift. How she missed the everyday touches that most people took for granted. He tried to give her those; the hugs and the backrubs when her neck was stiff from sitting in the chair studying too long, and the way people rubbed shoulders when they walked along together or brushed against each other in passing. A thigh pressed to his while watching TV. A foot rub. A high-five when she did particularly well on a test or told a dirty joke that got a laugh out of him.

She was starved for touch. She liked to tickle and wrestle and he did his best to give her all of that. She really liked it when he manhandled her, let her feel his strength; when he held her tightly or pressed her down to tickle her or rub his rough hairy jaw across her skin to make her giggle. Best of all she liked being pinned under the weight of his body while they rolled and played. He liked it too. Nobody touched him like that; men in the cage hit him and hurt him. Jaded women touched him to make him hard or get him off. Nobody but Marie touched him with real affection and a part of him needed that too. It was cathartic in its own way, a build up and release of tension. Occasionally they wound up flushed and sweaty with wild hair and silly grins, but it was always just that; good clean fun. Sometimes after she left, he would dream about her small soft body under his and grow hard, his hips moving restlessly while he slept. He wondered if she thought about it when she was alone in her bed... but he'd never asked, afraid it would upset the strange balance they'd found together.

While he wanted her to have every opportunity to gain confidence in herself and to learn to control her gifts, the underlying idea of her being given a room so close to his so she could strip away the layers and revel in her naked skin was almost too much. He couldn't keep her neatly in the 'kid' box while entertaining thoughts of her sprawled naked on her bed, her silky dark hair spread over the soft quilt and the sweet upthrust of pink on cream against a backdrop of citrus patchwork. It only took a heartbeat and he was envisioning what else she might discover; pale slender thighs with a curious hand between them, head tossing and those full, rose-pink lips open in a silent gasp of erotic self-discovery.

Unlike the Professor, and pretty much everyone else at the school, Logan wasn't worried about touching Marie for the same reasons the rest of them worried. He only worried that someday his control would slip and he would be touching her for his pleasure and not because she needed a pat on the back or a hug after a hard day. He also didn't share the Professor's belief that Marie would probably be incapable of physical human contact for the rest of her life. Hell, one conversation with Charles about Marie and her future and his mind was crawling with ideas about how to get around her inability to touch and be touched. Most of which he was certain would shock Chuck senseless.

The night after that conversation, he ran again. He was gone two days before he managed to shove all of those dirty little ideas somewhere deep inside himself, and when he came back, he had regained his tenuous control. Marie was once again established in his mind as a kid, and he willed himself to keep thinking about her like that because those other thoughts were threatening to drive him mad.

Touch and heat and _want_. Miles of milky white skin. Her body moist and flushed in the afterglow of her first orgasm with a man. Brown satin gloves skating over his body, making him twist and burn and writhe. The rasp of silk on damp flesh. The urge to roll her under him, sink his teeth into her and bite down _hard_. The sting of her nails on his back and sweat and lust and the agonizing sear of release. The salt of her efforts on his tongue and the trickle of pearly fluid running down her thigh after. His scent drying on her skin. And Christ, that mouth…. red and inviting. It still haunted him. Sin and absolution and every goddamn thing he shouldn't fucking want.

He was every bit the animal he knew himself to be. It didn't happen often, but instead of shoving those thoughts away violently, the beast reveled in them, even as the man sought her company for comfort and companionship.

But as jaded as he was, there were some lines that even he wouldn't cross. It wasn't that he felt unworthy. Far from it. He knew his own worth, but the deep chasm between their ages and life experiences made him uncomfortable. She should have all the time she needed. Nobody said anything about his absence, they just took it with a grain of salt as another one of his surlier qualities and he didn't feel the need to correct them. As far as he was concerned, they could go fuck themselves.

Three days after she had moved in, Logan knocked and stuck his head in Marie's door.

He sniffed. The room already smelled like her. He could detect the sandalwood soap she used, the vanilla candles she liked, and various other smells that made Marie, Marie; leather and sunshine, clean sweat and citrus, salt and earth and tamarind candy and the ridiculous scent of cherry pixie sticks. The ones he hated because they made her mouth look red and wet, like she'd just been kissed good and hard. At least she wasn't one of those girls that drowned themselves in perfume. With his acute sense of smell, they just gave him a headache, and besides, he liked the way she smelled, not her soap, just... _her_.

"Hey, darlin'. What kinda name is Rogue?"

"What kind of a name is Wolverine?" She shot back at him, grinning.

It was always the same greeting, a comfortable reminder of their closeness even when things changed.

"I brought you somethin', a sorta welcome to the dark side thing." His lips twitched.

"The dark side?"

"Sure. Slim sings in the shower. Now you can suffer along with the rest of us, kid."

She giggled.

He came in and dropped a sack on her desk. It clanked.

Marie crossed the room and looked into the sack. "You brought me beer and a box of cigars? Don't you think I'm a little young...?" Her voice trailed off.

_Way to go, Marie. Like the man needs another reminder you're too young for him._

She grimaced, but he didn't catch it. His eyes were on the patchwork quilt and he had an unreadable expression on his face.

_Not nearly young enough to be truly safe, Marie._

"Those aren't for you, darlin', those are for me. I figured if you get to keep extra gloves and scarves in my room, I get to keep these in here." His teeth flashed. " _This_ is for you," he said, holding out a plant and looking a little embarrassed. "It smelled good," he offered gruffly.

_Reminds me of the way you smell, kid._

Marie took the small rosemary bonsai tree from him; careful not to let her bare fingers touch his. The earthen clay pot felt cool and heavy against her palms. She liked it. She put it on the windowsill and gave him a quick hug. It was a bit of an odd gift, but the fact that he cared enough to give her anything at all warmed her heart.

_Logan and his nose._

Marie almost laughed, but she didn't want him to feel any more uncomfortable about it than he already did.

"Thanks, Logan. It's my first room warming present."

"S'nothin'," he said, turning to go. "Chuck has me lecturin' this afternoon on the 'merits of unarmed combat' in One-Eye's urban warfare class." He flashed her a predatory grin. "Maybe I'll use him for demonstration, huh?" His face remained stoic but his eyes were dancing.

"Hey, you know what they say…"

"What's that?"

"Be good, be good at it, or don't get caught, cowboy."

"Heh. Will, do."

"And just make sure that when he blasts you a new one that you leave enough time for the healin' to kick in before supper." Marie laughed at the look on his face. "Tonight's your favorite, chicken fried steak, biscuits and pecan pie. It would be such a shame for you to miss out. All they serve in the med bay is lime Jello."

His nose wrinkled up.

"Fuck that noise. Jello is only good for shots or bikini wrestlin', and even then- only cherry. Never that lime shit." He shuddered. "The only kinda lime I like comes just after a good belt of tequila."

She chucked a pillow at him.

"Still corrupting the youth of America, I see."

"You bet your ass."

"I like lime in my sweet tea. I'll have to take your word about the tequila, at least for now."

"When you're ready, I'll show you how that works."

_Shit._

Sometimes he got on a roll with her and forgot himself. It was happening more and more often these days.

Logan giving her drinking lessons? The room spun for a moment.

"Jello wrestling? I always wondered what you looked like in a bikini, sunshine," she teased, deliberately misunderstanding just to watch him roll his eyes.

"Christ, kid." He couldn't help the chuckle that followed. She was good at reading him. He'd needed a little breathing room there.

Her expression was suddenly serious. "You know I'm gonna hold you to that promise, right?"

"I know, darlin'."

For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of something golden gleam in his eyes before he looked away. It was gone when he looked back.

"You're gonna be late for class, teach."

"I know. S'more fun to wind Slim up first and then put him on the ground."

"I'd pay good money to see that fight. Especially if there's Jello involved…"

"Jesus," he muttered. "Only if he wears his best bikini," he said with a wink as he pulled the door shut behind him.

She was the only one who ever teased him like that. In a strange way it made perfect sense. He was the only one to touch her and she was the only one to tease him. It always made him smile, even when it was pissing him off. This little girl did what nobody dared to do. She sassed the Wolverine. Of course, he let her get away with it, but still, she was the only one who had ever even dared to try it.

Not only that, but when they argued she never backed down, especially when she felt she was right. Not even when he got mad. That slow honeyed drawl and sweet soft exterior incased a core of solid steel. Nobody, and he meant _nobody_ , ever stood toe-to-toe with him and held their ground when he was really pissed.

Nobody but her.

Her temper was just as volatile as his and though he didn't much enjoy the sharper side of her tongue, he did like the color it put in her face and the way her eyes flashed at him, dark and wild. She would look him in the eye, a direct challenge to the animal part of him, and she would tell him what she really thought. Usually loudly. She swore creatively too and rarely backed down from a fight. Those things endeared her to him more than he cared to admit. He'd always appreciated a strong, passionate woman.

And therein lay the problem. She was less a kid with every day that past.

She always seemed to know just how far she could push him, and she usually managed to stop just short of going over the line. He loved that about her, that she wasn't afraid to stand up to him and that she knew when to shut up.

_You gotta respect a girl who can sass the Wolverine._

Once or twice they'd had a flaming fight that had tested every bit of his patience. Both times he'd been hard pressed not to let that passion become something else. The last time he'd been a handful of moments away shoving her up against the wall and shutting up her mouth with his own. Things were definitely changing and he had no goddamn idea what to do about it.

Marie could hear his growly chuckle echo as his footsteps faded from the hall. She picked up the beer and put it in the mini fridge, another luxury not found in the student's wing. She grabbed the box of cigars and enjoyed a few deep breaths of the rich, peaty scent before putting them on the shelf above her desk. Marie sat back on the double bed. Even the beds were bigger on this floor. Perhaps it was one of the perks of being a member of the team; you risk your life on a mission and you get a bigger, more comfortable bed to fall into when you get back. She laughed quietly to herself.

Lying back on the bed, Marie took stock of the room. The walls were a soft muted green. The bed and the small night table next to it were made from a dark heavy wood. Across the room with a view of the courtyard below, was a matching desk and chair in the same dark wood. On a small stand in the corner was a modest TV, yet another luxury. There was a door that led to her private bathroom and she had a good-sized wardrobe as well, compared to the postage stamp sized closet in her last room. The space was nice but it was mostly empty and made her aware of what little show owned and how much she owed to the Professor's charity. She didn't like being indebted to anyone any more than Logan did. Her Southern pride was strong, even now. It stung to have her hand out and she hated every minute of it, even if she knew it was what she needed right now.

There was a worn but well loved patchwork quilt on the bed done in shades of olive, cream, rust and lemon, and two big downy pillows. She wondered if the professor had put them there especially for her. A square of tangerine silk covered the lampshade, giving the room a warm glow. It reminded Marie of home. The floor was hardwood, but it had a thick warm rug over it that felt good under her bare feet. Marie didn't own much, but the things she did have were arranged attractively around the room; a picture of her first dog, a smooth black stone with a white stripe in it that she'd picked up near Alberta, some candid shots of her friends during one of the camping trips the Professor had arranged, a folded paper crane Logan had given her, and a few candles in glass jars arranged around the room (that Scott had let her keep once she had convinced him that she wasn't going to burn the place down).

She didn't really mind that she didn't have a lot to put in the room for now. It made moving easier and it made Logan more comfortable because the room wasn't crammed with what he called 'girl stuff.' He always said 'girl stuff' like an exterminator might say 'vermin'. The soft olive blanket that Logan had given her at Christmas lay across the foot of her bed. She sighed and settled herself against the pillows, feeling at ease in her new room. Grabbing her journal, she opened to a blank page and wrote for a while, thinking about all the people who'd helped make her room feel cozy.

Jean and 'Ro had surprised her by sprucing up the bathroom for her. Gone were the school issue towels, and in their place were two big fluffy lemon colored towels and a matching fuzzy bathmat on the floor. They had even gotten her one of those fuzzy covers for the toilet seat in the same vivid lemon color. Marie had laughed when she saw it. She loved it but she was sure that it was going to fall into the category of 'girl stuff.' They had even gone as far as getting her a silky green robe that ended near her knees and elbows and had hung it on the hook in the bathroom. Everyone knew that she was here to work on her compulsion to cover every inch of her deadly skin.

They had all gone out of their way to make her room warm and inviting to entice her into losing a few of her layers of clothes. She was probably the only teenager in the world who had people encouraging her to wear _less_ clothing. Marie was touched by everything that they had done for her, but she was moved even more when Jean and 'Ro had each given her a hug before they left, with none of the awkwardness that was usually present when someone hugged her. Of course she had been covered from head to toe, but it was nice just the same.

Checking the clock, Marie realized that she was going to be late to dinner if she didn't get moving. She didn't want to miss it, especially since she was dying to know how Logan's 'lecture' went over in Scott's urban warfare class this afternoon. Marie gave her room one last look, and with a smile she grabbed her gloves and scarf, flicked off the light and headed out to find Logan.

* * *

 


	3. Confusion

Later that week, Marie was just finishing up the last of her homework when she became aware that she had been sitting in her room for the last two hours without her gloves or her scarf. Even her feet were bare and her toes were dug into the thick, creamy pile of the rug below her. She was surprised and pleased that she had gone two whole hours without once giving a thought to her exposed deadly skin. Maybe she was going to be able to get used to this after all.

Closing her history book, she decided that tonight she was going to sleep in something other than her regular pajamas. Considering she was surrounded by people who regularly broke all kinds of rules, she supposed it was a little silly to feel so defiant for something as simple as a change in what she wore to bed.

_Stupid mummy pajamas. Damn things wrap around me, covering me from head to toe, and are the most uncomfortable ugly things in the world to sleep in. All sweaty and hot and annoyingly claustrophobic._

Wasn't she supposed to be the Rogue? Where the hell was she now? She had a brazen, wild side and she'd always liked the feel of a heavy quilt on her while she slept, but she also liked to move easily under it. She missed the slide of bare feet on cool sheets. She was beginning to understand what the Professor had meant. Somewhere along the line she'd crossed over. Covering herself had become a part of her, and not in a good way.

Marie got up, pushed in her chair and closed the blinds on her window. It would never do to give the wing across the quad an x-rated peep show. Peeling off her clothes, she tossed them in the general direction of the hamper as she padded softly into the bathroom, enjoying the feel of the cool air on her bare skin. It was getting easier. There was something freeing about revealing so much skin and not having to worry about it hurting someone. She took her time getting the bath ready, just reveling in the fact she was completely comfortable in the nude, even if it was only within the confines of the small bathroom.

_I wonder if I got that from Logan or if it's just me? Lord knows that man doesn't mind the lack of clothes at all._

Marie knew from his memories in her head that he hardly ever wore underwear and he slept in the nude. Maybe it was left over from the time he ran wild, before he got control over the animal inside of him. Stifling a laugh, she lit a few candles so the vanilla scent would have a chance to permeate the room by the time she got out of the bath and she headed back into the bathroom.

She savored every sensation. The smooth, cool tile under her feet. The cold, slick ceramic of the edge of the tub under her bare thighs as she sat adjust the temperature. The cold splash as the taps sputtered and grew warm. The feel of her nipples drawing up tightly. It ached a little and her hands covered her breasts for a moment, massaging the tight sensation.

There was a long mirror on the back of the bathroom door. She stood and paused to look at herself. Like most young women, she saw the flaws first. Her features were too large for her face. Her eyes were too big and her mouth too lush. She'd gotten stronger while she was here, leaner and more toned. Her full breasts didn't fit her willowy frame and she wondered if they'd sag someday. She touched them again, watching as her nipples pulled tight. The sensation seemed to make her belly feel heavy, like it was being pulled downward into her pelvis. She shivered in the cool air.

Giving in to a whim, she pressed her body against the cold mirror and shuddered at the sensation on her sensitive skin. The hard ridge of Logan's dog tag bit into her breastbone, making her flinch back from the glass. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she fingered the tags for a moment before her hand skated across her skin. She pulled at her nipple softly, wondering how it would feel if someone else touched it. What would it feel like to have a baby nurse at her breast? Her skin grew pink and flushed as she imagined the heat of a man's mouth covering the tightly pebbled flesh. What would his tongue feel like? His teeth? Would his stubble make her shiver?

The man in her fantasy suddenly had a familiar face and she jumped away from the mirror abruptly, embarrassed by her thoughts. She'd been taught that touching herself for pleasure was wrong. It didn't feel wrong and that made her feel guilty. She wondered if her mama and God still had the same rules for people like her who were likely only to ever know their own touch. Was that still a sin?

She was suddenly aware of the feeling of wetness between her legs, like when she got her period, but slicker. Thicker. More viscous. A quick glance down. A wet shine, clear and glossy on her inner thigh. Touching it softly, she tested it between her fingertips, surprised by the easy glide. Whispered words, recalled. A crude joke with a kernel of truth. The flash of some half-remembered lesson from health class. Understanding. Lubrication to ease the passage of a penis being pushed inside her. Her brain easily supplied the feel of Logan's body pressing her down while they wrestled. The rest was nature and flash of him between her legs. Her face flamed.

Enough.

Enough of this!

Taps off. Fingers wiped absently on her leg. An afterthought. No trace left. Nothing but a blush and a strange lingering glide when she walked. She had just wound her hair up in a knot and pinned it up so it wouldn't get wet when she heard a knock at the door.

"Coming."

Marie felt a sudden wave of irrational fear that threatened to overwhelm her for a long moment, but she took a calming breath and crushed the urge to throw on all of her clothes get her gloves before answering the door. She couldn't help but wonder if it was because she was naked or because she'd been interrupted exploring her body in a way that she'd always been told was wrong.

Fear won out over embarrassment, so she imagined it was still the fear her skin would bring pain to her and to whoever was on the other side of her door, but instead of covering herself from head to toe, she grabbed the green silk robe and wrapped it around herself, shivering at the way the cool silk slid across her sensitive skin. She padded softly to the door. Opening it slowly, she saw Jean in the hallway. Jean's eyes widened when she saw how much of Marie's deadly skin was showing and she took a step back, but then she noticed the robe and smiled warmly.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Rogue, I just wanted to return the CD I borrowed," Jean explained with a soft sigh. She hadn't handled that very well and she chastised herself mentally. She could do better. She was a physician, for God's sake.

"No problem. You can just leave it on the desk if you want." She pulled the door open wider and stepped back. Marie had noticed that Jean seemed a little apprehensive about handing her the CD when she had so much skin uncovered.

"No, Rogue. I know it's a bit difficult for us both now, but the sooner we get over it the easier it will be." And with that Jean held out the CD for Marie to take. Giving Marie a smile, she took in the white curl escaping the knot on Marie's head and the robe. "The green becomes you, sweetie."

Taking care not to touch Jean's fingers, Marie took the CD from Jean's outstretched hand. "Thanks, Jean, for everything."

"You're welcome, Rogue. Have a nice evening." Jean smiled again at her and headed back to her room.

Closing the door, Marie went and put the CD back with the others in her collection and turned on the stereo softly. Eva Cassidy crooned into the silence. Her heart was beating a hundred miles an hour but she had done it. The urge to throw up was still there and she was sweating. Her hands were shaking but as she stood there, she felt the sharp spires of fear melting slowly away. That was the most uncovered she had been with anyone since she discovered what her skin could do. She definitely deserved a long hot soak in the tub after that experience.

Alone in his room, clad in only a pair of old faded jeans, Logan was leaning back in his chair watching the Flames-Rangers game and half-heartedly reading a briefing Charles had prepared for an upcoming mission when the sharp, acrid scent of Marie's fear reached him. He stood up so abruptly his chair fell over backwards, but almost before it hit the ground he was out the door. The hallway was empty and he could smell both Marie's fear and also Jean's perfume. He jerked to a halt outside Marie's door and knocked loudly.

_Let her be okay. Christ, just let her be okay. C'mon, kid, open the fuckin' door before I kick it down._

Marie had just been about to step into the bath when she heard the knock. The sickening flash of fear and the desire to cover everything was still there, but not quite as strong this time. She grabbed the robe and slipped it on, loosely tying the sash. She walked to the door and pulled it open expecting to see Jean standing there. Only it wasn't Jean, it was a very agitated Logan.

"You okay, kid? What happened?" he growled, hardly sparing her a glance as he peered behind her into her room, looking for the threat. Marie recognized immediately from the way he was shifting his weight, nostrils flared, and searching with his eyes that he was in full predator mode.

_Bees and dogs... Correction, bees, dogs and Logan._

She hid a smile. Apparently it wasn't just bees and dogs that could smell fear. If she didn't know firsthand how dangerous he could be when he was like this she would have laughed, but she hadn't forgotten the sensation of his claws in her chest.

_How sweet, he was worried about me._

"I'm fine, Logan." Marie knew she needed to diffuse this situation as soon as possible. "I was just startled when Jean knocked. I wasn't as covered as I usually am." Marie gestured at the robe with one hand. "I was, uh, just about to get into the bath," she paused, "I know the Professor thinks I can do this. Sometimes it's a little scary though."

Her words penetrated his brain, and he felt the Wolverine backing off a little. He was looking past her into her room. He noted the candles and the soft music.

_Kid's doin' a pretty good job at creatin' a relaxin' mood in here._

His eyes slid back to her and this time he really saw her, not just a quick look like before to assure himself she was breathing and in one piece before he looked past her into her room to find and kill whatever had been making her smell like that.

_Aw, shit. Shit. Fuck. Fuck! You're in the shit now, bub. I'd rather be anywhere than here, lookin' at her dressed like that. Like a woman, a highly fuckable woman. Warm and soft and hot as hell. Jesus, she smells good._

Logan felt all those things he had buried when he first saw Marie begin to push themselves to the surface. Desperately, he latched onto the phrase 'she's just a kid' and kept repeating it over and over in his head. The only problem was she didn't look like a kid at all.

Marie stood by the open door, one bare hand on the knob. Logan wanted to kill whoever had given her that scrap of green silk she was wearing. It covered her arms to the elbows but it stopped at mid thigh, showing off a long expanse of toned sexy legs.

_Big, BIG, trouble, bub. Why did it hafta be her legs?_

That's when he noticed the sash on her robe had loosened some, allowing the neck line to plunge until the point of the 'V' was somewhere between her generous breasts.

_Breasts? Christ._

And right there, cradled between the gentle curves, lay his tags.

_Lucky little bastards... My mark on her. Right there over her heart. Jesus, that's good. Markin' her as mine. No, wait... That's wrong. This is all so fuckin' wrong. She's just a kid, way too young for what I'm thinkin'._

Marie saw the look of abject horror on Logan's face. Retreating back a step her free hand moved to clutch the robe closed at her throat.

_Oh, God, he thinks I'm going to hurt him._

It hurt more than she thought it would. He'd never seemed to care about her skin before, but clearly it was rattling him now.

_Stupid, Marie. Stupid, stupid, stupid! You're never gonna be like everyone else. Nobody's ever gonna look at you and see anything but a mutant. Toxic. Deadly. A parasite._

Every awful, cruel taunt she'd heard over the last year came screaming back.

"Sorry I scared you, Logan," Marie managed to force out of her closing throat. "Don't worry, I'm not going to touch you. You know I'd never want to hurt you."

_Again._

_Touch you. Touch you. Touch you._

Her words were echoing in his head. He wasn't thinking about a life draining touch. In fact, the thought had never once crossed his mind. He was thinking about another kind of touch entirely.

All that skin. Warm and smooth and soft. The urge to push her robe aside and cup her breast in his palm was almost overwhelming. He could see her nipples through the silky fabric, tight and hard. His mouth watered.

_Gotta go... NOW! You asshole. You'd kick the shit out of anyone who was lookin' at Marie the way you are right now._

He forced himself to stop thinking about her legs and those curves.

_Jesus, no kid has curves like that._

He was in hell. He couldn't even stop his twisted traitorous mind from thinking about all that sexy skin and those lush curves. He curled his hands into fists to keep from touching her.

_Dammit, I'm not an animal. I'm not._

Wolverine raged inside him, hungry and wanting. His eyes smoldered, golden and hot as he looked at her.

_Fuck!_ _I can DO this._

"I've, um, gotta go... Sorry Jeannie scared ya, kid..." He forced his gaze up, away from the skin and curves. "Uh, later…"

He was backing away now. He could see the hurt on her face but he just couldn't deal with it right now. The truth had just slapped him down hard in a way he couldn't refute and his acute senses were still ringing with it. The luscious scent of her was so close he could almost taste it. He could hear the rasp of satin on her skin. Her scent filled his head. His hands shook, imaging how she'd feel under his fingertips. He could still remember the way her skin had tasted, that night in the torch when he'd pressed his lips to her forehead…

_Christ._

His resolve hardened as he saw her lip quiver. He turned and fled.

Marie could tell from his body language that he wanted to be anywhere but here. She watched his form retreat down the hall and she closed her door, resting her forehead on the cool solid surface. She wasn't sure how long she had stood there like that.

The sound of Logan's bike disturbing the still quiet of the night brought her back to reality.

She wished it hadn't.

Sometimes reality was far too painful.

* * *

 


	4. Revelations

_He's running again_ , Marie thought miserably, _all because of me_.

_Runnin' again_.

Logan pushed the bike faster than he should have through the lightly falling snow.

_I ain't ready for this. Ain't ready for Marie to grow up. Ain't ready to let Marie-the-kid be replaced by Marie-the-woman._ He could talk to Marie-the-kid. He had a relationship with Marie-the-kid. He did not have relationships with women.

He had sex with women.

He was halfway to the worst dive he could think of when he realized what Marie had really said to him.

_'Don't worry. I'm not going to touch you. You know I'd never want to hurt you.'_

"Fuck."

It got worse the more he turned it over in his head. There was only one logical conclusion.

Marie thought he was afraid of her skin, afraid to get close to her. Well, he was, but not for the reason she imagined. He turned the bike around and headed back to the school. He had to make this right, make her understand that it wasn't her skin he was afraid of.

_Fuckin' selfish asshole._

He had probably undone all the work Marie had accomplished so far trying to learn to be comfortable in her skin without hiding every inch of it like some kind of goddamn leper. Why did he always wind up hurting the people he cared about most?

Marie had long since finished her bath and climbed into bed. Nights were always hard, especially nights like this. Old insidious fears crept in. She had known it was only a matter of time before what she was would drive Logan away too. She had no more tears left. She pulled his tags from around her neck and let them slip through her cool fingers, like a river of metal to the nightstand. Reaching up, she turned out the light and lay there wondering if she should get up and put her pajamas on.

_Does it really matter, Marie? Nobody's ever going to touch you anyway. You're a freak. Nobody's ever gonna want you._

A wave of defiant anger washed over her.

_To hell with the damn mummy pajamas._

Marie pulled the clip from her hair and threw it across the room. The robe followed, jerked hastily from her body and hurled at the floor in a fit of temper. She yanked back the covers and slid between the soft sheets. They were cold and smooth. Her last thought before the misery-induced exhaustion claimed her was that the sheets sure did feel nice against her bare skin.

_No wonder Logan sleeps naked._

It was nearly dawn when Logan got back to the school. Normally he liked this time of day. It was quiet and tranquil, only right now he was feeling anything but peaceful. He was a riot of conflicting emotions. He wanted to fight something or better yet pop his claws and sink them into something warm and wet that would recoil and howl in pain. Instead he forced himself to knock on her door.

"It's open," came a sleep-roughened reply.

Logan could smell her; salt and sadness. Something inside him twisted. This was his fault and he had to fix it. He walked over to her desk, pulled out the chair, flipped it around and dropped into it wearily.

"Hey, kid. What kinda name is Rogue?" Logan looked up and nearly choked. There was a very long, very naked leg tangled in the sheets. He could see it from her sparkly green toenails all the way up to her hip.

Marie sat up against the headboard. Her sleep-mussed hair was falling around her shoulders in waves.

_Her very bare shoulders._

Logan's eyes narrowed. The leg had disappeared back under the quilt, but the fact that she was naked under the covers with a just a sheet barely covering her breasts made it difficult to think. He just knew she was naked under that sheet. Marie never did anything in half measures. If it weren't so important that he fix this, he would have been half way to Canada by now.

"What kind of name is Wolverine?" Her voice was rough from the crying she had done earlier. She swallowed hard and pulled the sheet higher. Logan noticed she no longer had his tags around her neck.

"I'm sorry," they both spoke at once.

"Lemme talk, kid."

_While I still have enough blood left in my brain to think straight._

All that blood was flowing south at an alarming rate.

_Fuckin' pervert, she's just a kid... Shit. Okay, maybe not a kid, but not really a woman either._

"I'm sorry 'bout earlier. I ain't afraid of your skin, baby, whether it's covered or not."

"Bull biscuits. You lit outta here like a scalded dog." She was hurt and angry, but better this than tears. They made her feel weak and foolish.

"It ain't bullshit."

Her expression was obviously disbelieving. "But- but you left. Not just my general vicinity, but I spooked you bad enough to send you scurrying into the night."

"First off, I don't fuckin' scurry anywhere. Second, I left 'cause I'm not usedta seein' you like that," he growled. He knew she was hurt but he didn't care for her tone and he was unbalanced enough to rise to her bait. He was honestly trying, but it was a losing battle.

_Oh, hell. I ain't good with words. This is gonna go badly. I just know it._

"Look. I'm just a man, kid. Not a hero or a saint, just a man, and not a very good one at that."

"That's not true. You're the best man I know."

"Now I call bullshit. I've got things in my head that nobody else should ever know about."

_You don't know the half of it, baby. You'd never wanna talk to me again if you knew what I was really thinkin' when I saw you in that scrap of green satin._

"You don't get to decide that for me. I do. I-"

"Let me say it while I still can, huh?" He waited for her nod. "I just saw all that skin... "

_And my tags between your breasts..._

"... And I lost it a little, okay? I admit it." Her face fell and he kicked himself for phrasing it so badly. "But it doesn't have shit to do with bein' scared of your skin. You looked good. Real good in way I didn't expect to see on ya for a few more years."

"Oh." She was not expecting that. It took the wind right out of her sails and filled her with a different sort of trepidation. He had to hear how fast her heart was beating.

"I just ain't ready for you to grow up. I've never had anyone in my life who gets me the way you do - that I could really talk to. I know that your growin' up is gonna change that."

"I don't want it to."

"Me either, but it's already different. You feel it. I feel it."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It ain't wrong. There's not a damn thing wrong with you, kid."

"That's not how it feels."

"How it _feels_ and how it _is_ … those're two different things."

"How are things, exactly?"

"Truth?"

"Yeah."

He might as well be honest and lay it all on the line. Let her see what a bastard he really was.

"When I saw you like that, I started thinkin' a whole lotta things I have no business thinkin' 'bout you yet."

"Yet?"

"Christ." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah. Yet. Things I pushed down real deep. You and me... we're... Fuck." His jaw clenched. "I'm not- I don't have some kinda thing for little girls. That ain't what this is."

"I never thought that. Never. You've been nothin' but good with me."

"It just surprised me, seein' you that way. Those thing I thought…. You're way too young, baby, and even if you weren't, I don't know if you'd want any of those things. I don't know if _I'd_ want any of those things."

_Liar._

His conscience taunted him.

Marie's eyes had grown very large.

"That's- that doesn't sound right." Fuck her. She never gave him an inch when she knew she was right about something.

"I've never lied to you and I ain't gonna start now. Relationships between a man and a woman are a whole lot more complicated than relationships between a man and a kid, darlin', especially when that man is as fucked up as I am."

"Logan-"

"Let me finish, Marie. I can't stop you from growin' up. The real truth is I don't even want to. The changes? They scare me but..."

"But?"

"But I like 'em. All I'm askin' for is time to deal with it in my own way. This next year is gonna be rough for us both, kid. If I run again it's just 'cause I need time to think, to sort stuff out. To let it settle."

_To get myself back under control so I won't touch you before you're ready for me, honey._

"It ain't about your skin. Not even a little. I'd never leave for good without tellin' you first. We just gotta take it a day at a time."

Despite her interruptions, that was the longest stretch of words she had ever heard Logan make at one time and they had spent a lot of time together. He wasn't a big talker, but when he did have something to say it was usually from the heart. Marie could sense his restlessness. He didn't want to talk anymore. He just wanted to know she was okay so he could go.

Her mind was reeling. Had he really just said that? Admitted to wanting her?

He was looking at her expectantly.

"Sorry. I'm just... whew, that sort of caught me off guard a little." He looked like he was about to bolt. "I mean, I sort of wondered about that but you never said..." She took a deep, steadying breath. "But I never said anything either, so-"

"It ain't on you. It's on me." He was the adult. He was the one who was supposed to know what he was doing.

"Thanks for, you know, being honest with me about all this. It's- it's a lot to think about."

He looked uncomfortable, like he was waiting for her to light into him and then kick him out of her room for the things he had admitted to thinking about her.

"I know this is going to be a hard year for us both, but I can't stay a little girl forever. I've never really been one. With being on the road and what Magneto did. I have so much in my head. More than most people get in a lifetime."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not." His eyebrows shot up.

"What?"

"I mean, I am in some ways… but I'm not sorry for the things that make me fit with you."

That surprised him a little. Sometimes she seemed every bit of seventeen, and sometimes her understanding of the larger picture made him think he wasn't so far off the mark about this thing between them.

"Good."

"I understand about you needing space. I need that too. I don't mind you needing to get away and think about things. It doesn't bother me." Marie fell silent and took another a deep breath. Logan's nerves were stretched taut in the silence while he waited for her to get out whatever it was she was finding so hard to say.

"Just say it. Whatever it is, get it out there." He wasn't known for his patience and he needed to know what he was dealing with here. Had he shocked her? Scared her? Made her uncomfortable? Something else?

"That stuff you said you were thinking about me," she began hesitantly into the silence. "Was any of it good?"

_Of all the things she coulda said, I sure as hell wasn't expectin' that._

His body responded to her words, tightening painfully.

"Yeah, darlin', it was," he admitted softly. "Real good."

She looked down at the floor and said something so quietly that without his heightened hearing he would have missed it entirely.

"The stuff I've been thinking about you... it's good too."

_Shit. I did not just hear that. Marie did not just tell me she has sex thoughts about me._

Logan shifted in the chair trying to find a more comfortable position. He didn't think he'd ever been this uncomfortable in all the years he could remember. Or as aware of the hard stand of flesh between his legs. He couldn't stop his traitorous mind from wondering exactly what kind of thoughts Marie had about him. The honorable part of him was at war with the more primal animal part of his nature. The part that took a deep sense of satisfaction in what Marie had just admitted.

"I, uh, don't think that now's a real good time to discuss this." He just wanted to go. He needed to leave before the lust fogging his brain rendered him incapable of reason altogether.

"Me either, I just wanted you to know I'm okay... better than okay. Sort of scared and excited and a little like I want to pinch myself, but not really in case I wake up."

He huffed softly at that.

"Are we good, Logan?" Marie asked knowing he would be leaving now that he was assured she wasn't falling apart.

"Real good, kid," Logan said as he got up to leave.

He was relieved she knew him well enough to know when he needed space. He smiled at her as he headed for the door, carrying his jacket in front of him to conceal his erection. If he looked at her any longer naked and tangled in the sheets he was going to lose his mind. He jerked the door open and turned around abruptly.

"Oh, and Marie? Put the damn tags back on."

She reached for the tags on her nightstand and slipped them over her head. Their familiar weight settled between her breasts and she smiled. She was aware the sheet had slipped down enough that he could probably see most of her upper body. She blushed but didn't make any attempt to cover herself. It was a night for declarations. He kept his eyes above her neck - mostly - but let her look her fill as he slipped his jacket back on. Even as naïve as she was, she couldn't miss his interest. Not in the worn denim that rode low on his lean hips and fit like glove.

She didn't say anything but he heard her soft intake of air.

He didn't say anything either. He simply nodded once and closed the door behind him.

Emotionally drained from the events of the evening, Marie lay back down. Her mind was always buzzing; thinking about how to deal with the men in her head, the man in her life, and herself.

For once, she just wanted to let it all go and just enjoy the feeling of the material against her skin and the knowledge that Logan had adult, sexual thoughts about her. There would be plenty of time to think about all that had happened tonight in the days and weeks ahead.

Marie smiled into the darkness as she heard the engine of Logan's bike turn over. She knew it would be a few days before she saw him again. He had a lot to think about too.

She waited until the sound of the bike grew so faint she could no longer hear it. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her fingers around his tags and let sleep take her.

~Several days later at a bar in New York~

Logan scowled into his beer. If he was going to continue putting distance between himself and Marie every time he was worried about losing control, he was going to have to find a better way than on the back of a bike in the middle of a Westchester winter. While he liked the cold, he didn't particularly like being _that_ cold. He had practically been frozen to the bike when he'd arrived at this dive. At least the numbing cold had given him something to think about other than Marie's naked breasts and the wild shift that had just happened in their relationship.

"Hey, bub, another beer."

Logan took the beer and wandered back to one of the empty booths in a dark smoky corner of the bar. It was easier to brood when one could sprawl out. Unfortunately, he had discovered that there wasn't enough beer in all of New York to erase the memory of Marie's words.

_The stuff I've been thinking about you... It's good too._

He couldn't get those words out of his head.

_Christ._

He scrubbed his hand over his face. Just because she had admitted to thinking sexual thoughts about him didn't mean she wanted a relationship, did it? Sometimes sexual thoughts were just sexual thoughts. Hell, he had admitted to having sexual thoughts about Jean and he certainly didn't want a relationship with her. While it was true he found Jean attractive, he had played up his attraction to her so they wouldn't notice his true interest lay in another direction entirely.

Not that he would have acted on those feelings for Marie then any more then than he would now. Instead of acting on them, he had pushed them deep down inside of himself and had not even allowed himself to think about them since he had come back to the school. He'd been around the block a few times, and found himself on the wrong side of the law more than once, but he was not a pervert. Time was on his side. He could wait.

In the mean time, 'she's just a kid' had become his mantra. Each time he felt his control slip he would repeat that over and over, picturing every childish thing Marie had done since he'd been back. The way she giggled with her squealing girlfriends when one of them had a good secret. The way she stuck out her tongue in concentration when she tried to beat him at poker. Hell, she'd even short-sheeted his bed once after he'd given her shit about watching cartoons. She worried if her ass was fat. She pored over ridiculous fashion magazines. She organized midnight sundae parties and water balloon fights. She sucked whipped cream from the nozzle and spent too much time fucking around with her little phone.

All those things, they kept her safe, untouchable. Marie-the-kid. He didn't allow himself to dwell on the more adult things she did. Like the way they talked each morning in the cafeteria over coffee before her classes, or the way she was always so responsible with her gift. How she never cried or begged him not to go when one of the professor's missions was especially dangerous and how she took care of him when he returned. Sometimes it was as simple as understanding there were times he didn't need to be alone. She fed him up. Sent him to the shower. Talked with him when he needed that. Sometimes just sat with him in silence. She'd even tucked him into bed once or twice. She was the only one who understood that it took something out of him to let them use his body for the cause. Just because he healed didn't mean he returned without hurts. She saw the ones nobody else could see.

He admired the way she stuck up for what she believed in. How she defended other kids, even when doing so put her in danger. He'd seen how soft she was with the younger students, gentle with their tender feelings. She didn't come to him to fix her problems. She talked them over with him sometimes, but she fought her own battles.

The real kicker was how she listened and understood him when they talked, really talked. She was young, and he didn't ever talk to her about the worst of the stuff in his head. He didn't think he'd ever share that stuff with anyone, but somehow with her he never had to. It was kind of scary actually. The only other person in the world who could tell what he was really thinking was Charles.

_That's just fuckin' great. The world's most powerful telepath and Marie. Typical._

Maybe it was because they had touched, or maybe it was just Marie. Who really knew? They had talked about those times they had touched, but she had never told him exactly which parts of him had been in her head or if any part of him was still there. He wasn't really sure he wanted to know. He was a fiercely private man.

Maybe it was her way of respecting that.

He didn't want this thing with Marie to be just about sex. It was, but it wasn't. She was growing up and that was going to change things regardless. The fact that they were attracted to each other just made things more complex. Then you added in his past and her skin, it went way beyond complicated.

Logan knew instinctively they'd crossed over some sort of line. There was no turning back now. He'd admitted fuck-all too much. He'd all but ordered her to put the tags on. And in typical Marie style, she'd met him half way; bared her body to him, but sweetly. Softly. He'd answered in kind. A wordless declaration that things were different now. He knew nothing would ever be the same again, it was just he had no idea how to go forward from here.

He didn't know which was worse, denying his feelings or acting on them and risking their friendship. He knew instinctively he'd never find anyone else who understood him the way she did, and that was a whole lot for someone like him to risk.

Logan stared at his long-empty beer bottle and decided it was time to go.

It was going to be a long cold drive back to the school.

Back to the questions he'd left unanswered.

Back to _her_.

* * *

 


	5. Discovery

Logan was gone five days that time.

Apparently, he'd been doing as much thinking as she had. Marie had heard him return late last night and she wondered if he was going to join her this morning for coffee like he always did when he was home. It was another of their rituals, like their greeting. It was something that stayed the same regardless of what changes were going on in their lives.

They always sat at the same table by the window, the one that had a view of the forest, and they would just sit and talk about unimportant things. They were both too private to have deep discussions in public. Those were saved for late nights in Logan's room or long walks through the school's wooded grounds. Both of them were not morning people, so more often than not they drank their coffee together in relative silence, simply enjoying the comfort of each other's company, exchanging just a few words now and then; plans for the day, usually, or setting up a good time for a more intimate talk later.

_He's not coming._

Marie's heart sank. The only time he didn't have coffee with her was when he was away on a mission. Had things really changed that much? She was just about to finish her last sip when he walked through the door looking as good as only Logan could look. He was dressed in his usual boots and jeans, topped with a thermal undershirt and his ever-present flannel work shirt. He shot her a 'don't move till I get back' look and he went to get some coffee.

Logan filled his cup and almost reached for the sugar. He had a terrible sweet tooth but he'd never let any of these geeks know about it. Not even Marie knew about that.

_A man's gotta have some secrets._

Besides, who would believe that the toughest guy in the yard would have a thing for sugar, honey, cookies and all things sweet? He hoped to God Scott never found out.

_Christ. Guess I'm a little more rattled than I thought._

He turned around, black coffee in hand, and went to talk to Marie.

"Hey, darlin'. What kinda name is Rogue?" He said as he slid into the chair across from her.

She smiled. "What kind of a name is Wolverine?"

"Sorry, kid, I'm runnin' a little late this mornin'."

_But only 'cause I spent the last half hour in the shower takin' care of somethin' so I can sit here talkin' to you without gettin' hard in fronta the whole damn school. Fuckin' healin' factor can be a real bitch sometimes._

"No problem." Marie knew Logan never 'ran late' but she didn't push him about it. She wasn't mad, just disappointed she was going to have to leave just when he got here.

They sat in silence a minute.

Neither of them really knew what to say and that was new. Her mind was whirling. Was he upset about what had happened? Was he thinking about their last conversation? Was he thinking about her _body_? Her face flushed, remembering how much he'd probably seen when she'd put the tags back on. She wasn't embarrassed about what she'd done. That had felt right. He'd liked what he seen. There was no mistaking that and that seemed right, too. She was just unsure of where they stood now and that made her feel awkward.

Seeing her that way had made him hard. Or maybe he was hard before and she just hadn't known it? And why did his stupid buckle have to be so _loud_? That damned Indian drawing her eye down. Every time she glanced at it - a look not a leer - she flushed. Did he notice? God, they needed to talk. She'd never been this jumpy with him. Not even that first time in his truck. She'd sassed him pretty good. That made her smile. Made her feel a little more like herself to remember that sometimes she really could be the Rogue without even trying. She was growing more and more into that person every day. It was a good change. It made her feel strong. Sure of herself. God knew she could use more of that right now.

She swallowed her last sip of coffee and picked up her bag. "I wish I didn't have to, but I've really gotta go. The Professor's gonna kill me if I'm late for physics again."

"Sure, kid."

She slid by him and he shot out a hand and caught her gloved wrist in his strong fingers. Marie shivered. No one but Logan ever voluntarily touched her. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah?"

"Nothin'," he grunted dropping her wrist.

"Uh-huh." She waited. When he didn't answer, she tapped her little foot and enjoyed the slight smirk the impatient gesture drew from him.

"You comin' by tonight?" he said finally, knowing she was probably going to be late for class now.

"I'll be there." She met his eyes and smiled before turning to go.

_He wants to talk. I hope it's not going to be weird._

She could already feel the butterflies forming.

He watched her go, appreciating her figure-hugging jeans and the way her curves filled out her top. He'd done his best to try not to be obvious about looking. He heard a metallic sound as she hitched her backpack up higher and he grinned, knowing his tags were back around her neck where they belonged. It made him think about that night, about how open she'd been with him. Sharing her skin with him that way, that was a big thing for her. He was the only man who'd ever seen her like that. It was sweet and soft and a world away from the brazen, jaded women in his past. That one glance, that tender revelation, fired his blood more than the dirtiest nights he could remember.

Logan wondered what Marie thought about what had happened. Was she sorry she'd done it? She seemed pretty okay with it - and with his response - but who could really tell? The mind of a teenage girl was completely foreign to him, and her mind was more complex than most. He knew she'd been thinking about it. She was pretty direct. He wondered what she'd say to him tonight. The idea excited him and he felt something in his chest ease.

He took a swallow of the bitter coffee and sighed as he watched her catch up with Kitty. She didn't look back but she touched her chest, just once, where his tags rested. That was enough for him.

_It's good to be home._

_Home? Since when do I call this place home?_

He drew in a deep breath when he realized he considered this place 'home' because that's where Marie was.

_God help us both, darlin'._

As it turned out, he didn't see Marie for almost two weeks. The mission he was working on had some new developments spring up unexpectedly, and Charles thought it best that they depart immediately. He didn't even get to tell her goodbye. The mission was long and frustrating. A lot of waiting and watching and doing nothing but gathering information on a local FoH cell. He spent eleven days with Slim in his pockets. They'd almost come to blows before it was all said and done. In the end the mission had become a clusterfuck. The cleanup had been swift and bloody. Three dead assholes. Two in the wind. A few concrete answers and dozens more unanswered questions.

When he got back, Marie was studying for a big test so he waited. It was finally Friday evening and he knew she'd be by when she got back from the movies with her friends. He'd caught her in the hall earlier and she'd wanted to cry off, but he'd insisted she keep her plans. He could wait. He wanted her to have fun. To feel like a regular kid. It helped his resolve, but not nearly enough.

It was a little after ten when he heard her knock.

"C'mon in, kid." They exchanged their usual greeting. He chuckled when she came through the door with the blanket he'd given her at Christmas wrapped around her shoulders. "What's with the get up?"

"Logan, it's twenty-five degrees outside and you always open the window when you smoke. It's freezing in here." She pointed to his cigar and the open window. "See, I came prepared this time," she said, holding up the edge of the blanket before wrapping it back around herself. He moved to put out the cigar and close the window, but she stopped him. "Don't. It's nice." He didn't know if she was referring to the brisk air or the rich smell of the tobacco or both. Maybe she just meant sitting with him while he smoked it. Who knew? It felt nice, regardless.

"Suit yourself, darlin'," he said, offering her the chair. She sank into it gratefully and sighed. The smooth leather was still warm from his body heat and it smelled like him. She loved the way he smelled, musk and smoke and something elemental that was just Logan; crisp and wild like the outdoors underscored with something that made her stomach feel warm and heavy. "Wanna Coke or somethin'?" He asked as he got himself another beer and put it on the nightstand.

_What I'd really like is one of those beers thanks to the 'you' in my head, but I don't think telling you about that's gonna go over well at all._

"No thanks, I'm good," she said as she pulled off her boots and tucked her feet under her, wrapping the blanket more firmly around herself. He thought she looked... cozy.

_Cozy? That's a Marie word if I ever heard one._

_Great, the kid's rubbin' off on me._

Somehow, that thought wasn't as disturbing as it should have been. Logan grabbed the beer, removed the cap and leaned back on the bed, resting his back against the wall. He grinned at her as he flicked the cap toward the wastebasket with a loud snap. It sailed in easily even though he hadn't looked toward the basket once.

"Show off," she laughed.

He laughed too, and they began to talk about what had been happening in each of their lives since they'd last been together. He talked to her about the mission and she talked to him about school. They chatted late into the night. Eventually Marie got up and shut the window after he had worked his way through the rest of his cigar and three more beers. She was leaning back in the chair, her fingers idly playing with the cap from his previous beer. The one he had flicked at her for teasing him about enjoying the prospect of coming to blows with Scott on his last mission a little too much.

She was not wrong.

The conversation had taken a more serious turn around midnight. She had told him about some of her recent sessions with the Professor and about his ideas on controlling her gift. There were ethical considerations about testing her gift with human subjects, even if they were willing, but he had broached the idea about the possibility of testing her gift on animals. He pointed out they didn't have a human consciousness, per se, that would add to what she called The Marie Collective, and that it might be beneficial to see if she if she concentrated if she could slow or control the influx of energy. The idea had deeply disturbed her. She'd cracked a joke but Logan could tell she was pretty upset by the whole thing.

"It just doesn't feel right, you know? I don't want to hurt anything."

"I know, baby. That ain't who you are."

"I hate it. I hate it so much. That it's all I'm good for. Hurting people."

He understood that all too well.

"Don't say that. That ain't right."

"It's the truth though, isn't it?"

"Nah. You're just beginnin' to understand it. It'll get better with time."

"Did it for you?"

That was a loaded question.

"Yeah. Eventually." He was looking at her intently now. "It's all right, darlin'. It's never easy for people like us to learn to control our gifts."

Marie wondered if Logan was aware he was rubbing his knuckles where the claws came out and frowning slightly.

"Gift? You can give back a _gift_."

He was inclined to agree.

"For some it's easy, but for others like us..." he grew quiet. "Some of us hafta fight every hour of every day for control. It's not fair - it's just the way things are."

This wasn't what he wanted to talk to her about tonight. He wanted to talk to her about them, about what he had decided in the days he was away thinking.

He let out a deep breath he hadn't been aware he was holding and took another drink. He could tell Marie wanted to ask him something.

"What is it, darlin'? You know you can ask me anythin'."

_Not that I'd answer every question, but you can always ask._

She looked out the window for a long moment. "Would you tell me about it?"

Logan's jaw tensed.

"Would you tell me about that part of you that's so hard to control?" she asked softly.

He knew she needed to hear she wasn't alone in her struggle to master her gift. That even if she only had imperfect control or none at all, that it would still be okay.

"Marie," he warned.

He knew what she needed but that part of him wasn't pretty. Sharing it with a young girl probably wasn't the best idea, even if she did have some of him in her head.

"Please," she whispered.

His eyes met hers. "You sure you wanna hear this stuff, kid?"

She nodded slowly.

"I'm sure."

* * *

 


	6. Confessions

"I mean it, Marie, it ain't pretty. You sure you're ready to hear this?"

"Yes, I am." Her gaze was no longer shy or evasive.

_You asked for it, darlin', 'cause once I get started you're probably gonna hear some things you wish you hadn't._

He got another beer and sat back on the bed just watching her. It was a long time before he said anything. There wasn't anything to do but face up to the difficult subject and go straight at it. He'd always been honest with her – and with himself – about this part of his nature. To do otherwise wasn't just foolish. It was dangerous.

"You know how I am. Know that it's not just me in here." Her face was open and soft. Understanding. "There are only two things that bring the animal part of me that close to the surface, fightin' and fuc– uh, sex. It's real easy for me to lose myself in either. It's not such a problem with the fightin'. You can only kick an ass so hard... but the other..." He looked at her sharply. "You still wanna hear this?" He waited for her nod before continuing.

He had shocked her. He could tell and that made him even more uneasy.

Marie could see he was struggling to get the words out now. She knew it wasn't that he was embarrassed to talk about sex. They could – and did – talk about almost anything. He just always had a hard time talking about himself and his feelings. Especially when it involved something as intimate as how he related to sex. And for all their openness, there were some subjects they never touched on.

"I can be a bit..."

_Wild? Passionate? Animalistic?_

"... rough. I've never really hurt anyone, but sometimes the intensity can be..." He struggled to find the right word.

_Hard to control? Overwhelmin'? Absolutely unbelievably mind blowin'?_

"...uncomfortable, even when both people know what their doin', darlin'."

_Great, why don't I just go ahead and tell the kid I like it on the edge of losin' control - that I like that place beyond words when that part of me is so close to escapin' - where it's just about the feelin' and the sounds and the scents - that the primal part of me loves the possession, the knowledge that I can make someone else lose control. That it can be an escape from the memories, if only for a little while._

Marie was staring intently at him waiting for him to continue, but he wasn't sure what to say next. This conversation wasn't exactly going like he thought it would at all.

"Marie, I-"

"So, you'd prefer it if I had some experience then, is that it?" she interrupted, her temper flaring a little.

Mad was okay. He could deal with mad. It was easier to deal with than hurt. He should know. He had an intimate relationship with both anger and pain.

"Hell NO! Jesus!" Going out to the movies or for ice cream with stupid little punks her own age was one thing. The thought of another man touching her made his blood boil and his knuckles burn with the desire to slice something that bled, something with pulse. He was getting really frustrated now. "I just want you to grow up so it's okay for me to do the things I wanna do with you," he exploded with a snarl.

_Way to go, asshole. Very smooth. What innocent girl is gonna go for that?_

_Oh God, OhGodOhGodOhGod! He wants me._

"I- I can do that," she said quietly.

_Score one for you, Marie._

_Huh? Christ! Just when did I lose control of this conversation?_

"What?" He asked, exasperated with himself, and her, and the whole situation in general. He wasn't sure how a conversation about controlling their 'gifts' could end up with him blurting out something like that.

"I said... I. Can. Do. That." She smiled shyly at him. "How long do we have to wait?"

_This conversation has taken a turn from uncomfortable to fuckin' surreal._

"Marie-" he warned.

"Hey. Don't put me off. I want to know. It concerns me too." Her voice was soft. "It feels like you're waiting for something and I deserve to know what it is. Where did you put that line in your head? A few weeks? Six months? When I'm thirty? What?"

Logan looked deeply into her eyes, as if he was searching for something. He had come to a decision about them while he was away, but he was pretty sure she wasn't going to like it and he was damn sure he wasn't ready to talk about it all right now. He was so still and he stared at her for so long she thought he wasn't going to answer. He must have seen something in her eyes though, because he seemed as surprised as she was when the word left his lips.

"Eighteen."

She nodded, thinking that over. While she was ecstatic that he was willing to entertain any sort of romantic relationship, she was less than thrilled with his time frame. That was almost a year away.

"You do realize I'm legal now, right? Like right now. Today."

"Yeah." He gave her a hard look. "And you were legal at fourteen in Canada. That don't make either of them right for you or me."

"And eighteen is? It's just an arbitrary number. What if I don't want to wait?"

"What if I do?"

"For God's sake, _why_?"

He smiled a little at the sheer exasperation in her voice.

"Because when you look back on this someday, I don't want you to think that I was some asshole who couldn't wait until you were ready. That I couldn't even give you that much. All I got is time, kid. Fuckin' decades of it. Maybe centuries. Why not letcha have what you need now? Why not let me give ya that? Be a kid. Experiment. Screw up. Grow up. Make mistakes. Get a few miles on ya. I wantcha to have that, baby."

"That's…. that's really sweet, actually."

"Hmph."

"I'm… I'm not really sure what you're hoping I'm gonna do in the next year, though. I'm not interested in kissing any frogs, you know?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "How many people do you know who wind up with the first one they fall for, huh? How many? I don't wanna be the first of many, baby. I can't do that. Not with you."

"My Great Grandma Fae did that," she said softly.

"What?"

"My GG Fae was sixteen when she married my Great Grandpa Rhys. He was thirty-two. She already had a baby on her hip by the time she was my age. They were married for fifty-three years."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. GG Fae was Texas country. She met Rhys when he was escorting prisoners on horseback across her daddy's land. She brought water to him in a dipper. They took a shine to each other and when he came back through, they courted for a while and were married not long after. She said he had a good heart and that she liked the way he filled out his pants."

Logan chuckled.

"Sounds like a good woman."

"She was. Her youngest daughter, Anna Marie, was my grandmother. She was eighteen when she eloped. He died in the war, but she's still in love with him to this day. She said she saw him in his uniform and that was it."

"Heh."

"Maybe it's a thing with women in our family. When we find it, we just know."

He ignored that.

For now.

"And your parents?"

"She and Daddy were high school sweethearts. They got married after she finished college. She was twenty-one, but I heard her talking about it once. They lost it together after their junior prom. They were both seventeen."

"Baby-"

"I know it doesn't happen often. But it does happen."

"Hmph."

"And it seems to happen kind of a lot in my family."

"Fair enough."

"You don't sound convinced."

"I'm not. Those're good stories, but I'm still firm at eighteen - and even that's probably less than you really need, but I'm not sure I can give you more than that. Not now. Not after…" Not after she'd let him see her naked breasts. Not after what that had done to him. It had been sweet and innocent, but it had touched off a slow burn that he couldn't put out. Her nipples were small and baby-pink. Seeing his body's response had made her heart beat faster and her breath catch. That knowledge wasn't going to go away.

She touched the tags softly and he nodded. They'd acknowledged the spark between them. There was no going back from that.

"It ain't just you. I need time to let all this settle. To get things worked out on my end so I'm not so...volatile." Wolverine had always been an unpredictable bastard, but with her it was on a whole new level. It had been getting steadily worse the last few months. "I mean it, Marie, eighteen. I ain't movin' on that. 'Till then, things stay the same as they are right now. We can hang out and talk about whatever you want, but nothin' else." His eyes left no room for argument.

"Whatever I want? Anything?"

"Jesus. You always gotta push?"

"Yeah. I do. I actually think that's kind of a good thing. I think a widening of acceptable topics is a pretty fair compromise." He was making that face. "What? It's not like I'm talking the Red Shoe Diaries or anything. Geez."

"Heh."

"But I have... questions. Things I've sorta skirted around until now. Things I'd only feel comfortable asking you about. Some of it is kinda specific to us. Most of it is just, you know, like general personal stuff."

"Personal?"

"Private. Intimate."

"Right. Okay. I get whatcha mean there. That's fine."

"Okay, eighteen," she finally agreed.

_She's not gonna like this part._

"Eighteen, and only - and I mean ONLY - if you agree to my rules."

There was dead silence.

"Rules?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, rules. I don't care if you think I'm bein' an asshole. It's a package deal there." There were some things he couldn't compromise on. The Wolverine wasn't a lapdog.

"What rules?" She asked. "Because it seems to me that eighteen is old enough to be making my own rules, not following yours. I don't want to be owned, even by you, Logan."

"I don't wanna own you, baby." His gaze softened. "The rules ain't so much for you as they are for me - for my sanity," he told her quietly. "And for your safety."

"Safety? You'd never hurt me."

He wasn't so sure.

"There's all kindsa hurt, kid. Not just the one you mean. Not just physical pain." He knew she knew that. You didn't spend any decent amount of time on the road and not come away with some intimate understanding of all the ways people could be shitty to each other. Physically. Emotionally. Sexually. Logan sighed. "He's hard enough to keep a lid on when you're not makin' him burn, honey." Her eyes widened but he wasn't about to sugar coat this for her. "You get me?"

"Yeah."

"So..."

"Go on, then."

"Number one, if I say stop, you hafta stop, darlin'. Even if you don't wanna."

_Oh, God... He's talking about..._

Marie blushed, unable to finish that thought.

"And two, if I tell you to leave, you hafta leave. Get the hell outta of my room and go to yours or take a walk or somethin'. That's it. Take it or leave it, 'cause it's the only way I can do this."

He was surprised when she didn't answer right away. She was a pretty spontaneous person in general. That she was taking the time to really think it over made him feel pretty good about it.

"All right," she said slowly. "I agree. Eighteen and your rules - but I want to know why those particular rules."

_Fuck. Was I ever that young and green? I don't think so._

"You sure you wanna hear this?"

_This is gonna open up a whole 'nother can of worms. I fuckin' know it. Why couldn't she have just said yes? Probably because she's as stubborn as I am_. _Fiery and sharp as hell, too. And Christ, that mouth._

Always had been his downfall, in more ways than one.

She wasn't wrong to push him either.

"Will you quit asking me that? Of course I wanna hear it," she said a little breathlessly. "If we can't even talk about a relationship, how can we possibly make one work?"

"Good point, darlin', it's just I can be a little... blunt. I don't wanna tell you anythin' you ain't ready to hear. I ain't goin' anywhere. I can wait 'till you're ready for this conversation."

"I'm seventeen, not seven. Besides, I have a pretty good idea what you're talking about." She lowered her eyes and blushed again before catching his gaze once more.

"Uh-huh." He said with one of his trademark growly chuckles. He sat up and reached over, grabbing her chair and dragging it over to the bed until they sat knee-to-knee and eye-to-eye. He leaned in closer and he wasn't laughing anymore. He left his hands on the arms of the chair, leaving her room to move, but ultimately aware of him in a way she hadn't ever been before. He could smell the change in her and it excited him.

"Baby, you won't be eighteen for almost a year. Are you sure you wanna have this conversation now?" Never in his wildest dreams did he think they would be discussing this particular topic tonight.

She nodded.

"I think it's going to be tough enough already with my skin and everything. The more we can work out before, the better off we'll be." Her voice sounded surprisingly normal to her ears but her heart was thumping madly in her chest and she knew he could hear every erratic beat.

"Makes sense." He watched her squirm in the chair. He almost felt sorry for her - but then he thought about all the cold showers, frustration, and sleepless nights that would be coming his way in next few months and he didn't feel quite so bad. He sighed. This was not going to be an easy conversation.

"It's about control, kid," he began.

"I gathered that much already," she said tartly.

Logan growled. "I don't mean my control over you, darlin'. I mean my control over myself."

_Over the animal._

He looked over at her to make sure she was with him so far.

"And your rules help you maintain control?" She looked like she wanted to ask him something else but thankfully, she was silent.

He nodded.

_Maybe she'll be happy just with that._

"How?"

_Christ, that little firebrand is enjoyin' watchin' me squirm. Well, we'll just see about that, darlin'._

"The rules..." she prompted when he didn't respond.

"I'm gettin' to 'em." He sat back, reached for his beer and took a long pull. "Okay, rule one. If I tell you to stop you hafta stop."

"Stop what?" She was breathing harder now. She wanted, needed, to hear him say the words.

"Stop doin' whatever it is you might be doin' that makes me want to lose control - like kissin' or," he swallowed another sip of beer, "touchin'."

"So I can't kiss you or touch you?" She didn't look very happy with the direction this was going.

"I didn't say that. But there's only so much kissin' and touchin' a man can take before he wants... more." She was nodding. Apparently this was not news.

_Thank you, Cosmo._

_Hell, might as well put all my cards on the table._

"I don't know if it's the case for all men, darlin', but for me there comes a point where I just can't stop." Marie noticed he didn't look at all pleased by that fact. "So if I tell you to stop you hafta stop - right then, Marie. No games. I'm not fuckin' around here. Understand?"

_You gotta understand, darlin'. I can't change this. It's just somethin' hardwired inta me._

"I understand." She was flushed now, and he was pleased to see her breathing had become irregular.

_You're not so calm yourself, bub. Besides, that wasn't so bad. One down, one to go._

"Rule two?" Marie asked.

Logan tilted back his head and finished off the last of his beer. "Rule two. If I tell you to leave, you leave. No questions. No talkin' back. No teasin' me. You just go."

"Why," she asked softly. "If feel that way about me why would you want me to go?"

_So I can lose what's left of my sanity in peace._

"So I can get it under control - get _him_ back under control - without worryin' 'bout what he might do to ya," he snapped.

"I'm not afraid."

"You damn well should be." He rubbed a hand over his face and frowned. "Sorry. This ain't easy for me, baby. It's been fifteen years and he still gets away from me sometimes. With you, it's harder. Always has been." He had no idea why. It had been like that from the very beginning. Something about her put the Wolverine on an express train to the redzone. It was primal and instinctive and scary as fuck. "I dunno why. You rile him up real good. Real fast. Especially now after..."

She fingered the tags. "After that night."

"Yeah. Just after. It was bad before but now it goes from fine to fuckin' flashover in a heartbeat. Everything goes all hazy around the edges and I just kinda lose it." Admitting that was hard. He'd fought like hell for the little control he had. He didn't like that she stripped it away so easily, especially because he didn't know how, or why, or what the fuck to do to stop it. Sometimes just her scent was enough to make that red haze descend.

"I know. I'm sorry." She was silent for a while. "How."

"How what?" He wasn't at all sure he wanted to know what she was asking.

"How do you get it under control?" Marie wasn't an idiot. She knew he was talking about controlling that animal part of him that wanted. The part that wanted her and didn't care about anything else. Not rules. Not morals. It wasn't counting birthdays. It just _wanted_.

"It depends," he finally ground out. The look she gave him told him that she wasn't going to accept that as an answer.

_Dammit. What does she want from me? I certainly didn't expect to spend tonight plannin' out our relationship._

_God._

_Our relationship._

Two words he had spent the last fifteen years avoiding.

"I know that you don't like talking about that part of yourself, but I just want to understand you, Logan," Marie said honestly. "If… if this is really headed that way… if I'm gonna be waking up beside you at some point, then I should know. It's okay, whatever it is. Really. Just tell me, okay?"

Waking up beside him? That was almost too much right there.

He sighed. She was right. He'd answer the question. That way she could decide if she still wanted something with him after she heard what he had to say. He took a deep breath and tried to decide how to begin.

_Start small and build._

"Sometimes I run."

Marie smiled. "Me too."

"Sometimes I go down to the Danger Room and kill things, or I find a dive with cage and do some real fightin'." He checked to see if he had shocked her yet.

"That's kind of what I figured you were going to say," she offered quietly.

"There's more."

There was a wealth of emotion behind those two little words.

There was a long pause while she considered that before she finally said, "Okay, and yes, before you ask, I'm ready to hear whatever it is you're trying so hard not to say."

"Sometimes I just get on my bike and drive around thinkin', or I find somewhere quiet and I meditate," he paused.

_I hope you're ready for this, Marie._

"And sometimes when it's bad - 'specially when it's bad - in the past I've either found a woman or I've taken care of it myself." Marie's eyes were wide. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea, darlin'. I'm not lookin' for any other women any more - so that just leaves me takin' care of myself. You understand?"

_Did I understand? I'm not an idiot. I'm just young. Well, young and a virgin. An embarrassed virgin._

Her face was very red, but she managed to squeak out, "Doesn't it embarrass you? I mean, that I know you..." She tried again. "Everyone always whispers and jokes about it. They say mastu... um, touchin' yourself is weird or wrong or a sin or somethin'."

_Great. Logan is finally ready to talk to me like an adult and I sound like a freaking idiot. Could I be more pathetic? It's just, wow... that was sorta really... full on._

"No, I'm not embarrassed." Logan chuckled softly. "And don't listen to those people, kid. They don't know what the hell they're talkin' about."

_I hope you're ready for the blunt truth, darlin'._

"I don't know what crap they're teachin' about it these days, or what shit you hear from your little girlfriends, but the truth is it feels good. Not as good as when you're with someone, but still, it's good."

_Ok, so maybe I'm a little embarrassed. Since when did I become the fuckin' poster child for jerkin' off?_ He snorted. _Probably when I figured out that's all I'm gonna be gettin' for the next year._

"Oh." She was surprised, but the way he talked about it, shooting as straight with her about this as he did about everything else they spoke about, that helped ease her embarrassment.

"And I'll tell you somethin' else, darlin,' somethin' that nobody ever has the guts to say. People who do it make better lovers. They're more comfortable with their bodies and that makes their partner more comfortable too. How do you show someone else what you like if you've never taken the time to learn?"

Logan took one look at Marie's face and worried he had said too much. "Marie? Everythin' okay over there?"

Marie was watching him. Looking from his hands to the vicinity of his belt buckle and back again. She flushed when he caught her looking and she dropped her gaze to the floor.

_God, she can't even look at me._

He felt like a real bastard. He had just told a seventeen year old girl, a girl he cared about more than his own life, that the reason he wanted to send her from his room was because he needed time to get his lust for her under control before he lost it and went after her. Nobody had ever accused him of being the sharpest knife in the drawer, but this was a new low... even for him.

_Way to go, asshole. I really am an animal._

"It's okay if you don't want this now. I'll understand."

His heart would wither to ash but he'd survive. He always survived; not a gift, a curse. His body always healed even when the pain inside didn't, but that was his cross to bear, not hers.

"Baby, look at me. Please." It was the plea in his voice that gave her the courage to meet his eyes.

She brought her gaze up until it was locked with his. Her eyes were dark and heavy-lidded with desire. Her pupils were blown wide. The look of naked want on her face surprised the hell out of him and very nearly put him on his knees. He suddenly became aware of a scent he'd never smelled on Marie before. She was aroused. The rich, sultry scent was thick and coming off her in waves. He wanted to push his nose into it and drown himself in it, in her.

_Christ. Musta been pretty far gone not to notice that earlier._

His body was responding to her scent. He inhaled sharply and felt his control falter as that animalistic part of him rose sharply to the surface.

"Marie," he growled.

Her skin was tingling and she felt an ache building down low. It made her want to press her legs together. She had the strangest urge to bite him.

_Get a grip, Marie. He's talking again. Listen up._

"Marie," he growled lower this time.

She snapped back to reality. "Yes. I agree. Eighteen and your rules."

Relief and lust washed over him in equal parts. He smiled a wicked smile.

"Darlin', if you have any heart at all, you won't look at me like that again 'till you're eighteen."

"Don't bet on it." Marie laughed at the look on his face.

"Oh, and kid?" He pointed to the door, still smiling. "Get out."

* * *

 


	7. Assurances

Logan stood alone in his room breathing in Marie's intoxicating scent. He chuckled as he remembered her hurried flight back to her own room and then he groaned softly. He should have told her to run farther than her own room. With his heightened senses, it was as if he was right there with her anyway, regardless of the fact there were two closed doors and a hallway between them. He could smell her lush scent and hear her heartbeat. A satisfied smile touched his sensual mouth. Her heartbeat was as erratic as his. It was nice to know she had been as deeply shaken by the evening's events as he had.

He was still uncomfortably aroused, but the relief and wonder that had washed over him when she had accepted his rules, accepted him, had taken the edge off the worst of his hunger. There would be time enough for that later. Right now he was going to grab his pack and get the hell out of Dodge while he had enough strength to resist the temptation down the hall.

That's when he heard it. The whisper-soft sound of Marie's clothes rasping across her skin as she undressed for bed. He wondered why he hadn't noticed that sound before, but then he realized he probably had. It was just lost in the background with the thousands of other noises that surrounded him every day. The difference was that now he was listening for it.

_Jesus. I really am a bastard._

But still, he couldn't stop himself.

He wasn't a praying man, but in that moment he asked for strength _._

He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the back of his door. He heard her bed creak and the rustle of the sheets and the quilt as she slipped under them. The soft chinking sound of his tags made his chest warm. The next sound he heard was the click of her lamp as she turned out the light and then her quickly whispered prayer.

_Bless Mama and Daddy. Help them to find acceptance and peace for what I can't change. Help me to find understanding and forgiveness. A little Grace wouldn't be too bad either, if you've got some to spare. Bless Logan. He's- he's real special to me. I think maybe to You, too. Please watch over us all and keep us safe. And, um... you know, sorry. Amen._

Sorry?

That was new. It was the same little prayer most nights. He wondered how much was habit and how much was belief. She was a spiritual person in her own way, but not in the way her parents had wanted her to be. He tried not to listen to her private whispers, but sometimes he caught them and it always made his chest feel tight that she never asked about her mutation. Never asked why. Never asked for control. It was like she'd given up, and for that to have happened while she was so young just killed him.

He heard her whisper, "Night, Logan," into the quiet darkness of her room.

He closed his eyes and whispered back to her, "G'night, darlin'."

Logan let out a long shaky breath and reached down to adjust himself. A wholly masculine gesture, and one he found himself making far too often when it came to her. Healing factor or not, being this hard couldn't be good for anyone. For several long moments it was blessedly silent and then he heard Marie make a low sound in her throat followed by a sharp intake of air before she gasped softly.

Logan's hand tightened involuntarily around himself and he groaned.

_Christ. She had to pick this time - this moment - when I'm at my weakest to take my advice 'bout learnin' the pleasure her body can bring her._

'Sorry', she'd said. He got it now. It wasn't for something she had done. It was for something she was about to do.

He jerked his hand away from himself and spun around. He wasn't going to sit here touching himself while he listened to Marie explore her body for the first time. He wasn't a voyeur. He respected her far too much to intrude on her privacy that way. He liked observing as much as any other man, but not without the consent of his partner. He might be an honorable man, at least when it came to Marie, but he was still a man - a man with an animalistic nature and a sex drive to match. Those soft, intimate sounds were driving him wild. He wanted to be there, holding her, watching her face as she explored and struggled, straining for release before she flew apart in his arms.

A bit sad, he realized that she would be a little less innocent in the morning, a bit more of her childhood would be behind her, but at the same time, she would be a bit closer to being a woman. A woman he could hold and touch the way he wanted to; a woman, not a girl. But that day wasn't here yet, and he was going to lose his goddamn mind if he didn't get away from her enticing scent and those sweet little sounds she was making. Those soft ones, the breathy ones in her throat were killing him.

He grabbed his pack and began throwing things in it quickly and violently. He jerked on his boots and jacket before grabbing his pack and his keys. He wrenched open the door and tried to focus his mind on one thought.

_Go now._

_Gotta go, NOW._

He tried to ignore the soft, seductive sounds emanating from Marie's room. They weren't loud. Anyone with normal hearing wouldn't notice a thing. It was like her breathy little sounds were just for his sensitive ears. He stopped in the hall outside her door and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

_Just a little longer._

_Then I'll go and she'll never know how close I came to losin' it tonight._

He couldn't help but wonder what she was doing. Her hands running through her hair? Touching her mouth? Trailing down her neck? Smoothing over her sides first; sweeping touches all over before they got more focused? He didn't think so. She was a sensual creature, but she was also direct when she wanted something. She'd go right after it. She was a sweet girl, a good girl, but fiery and passionate and those soft little sighs had come straight off. Breasts first was his guess; a gentle, sensual touch. Was she thinking about the night she'd shown them to him? Imagining his mouth on her? His hands pulling at the tight, pink nipples; pinching as he sucked and kissed? He'd smelled the change in her scent tonight. She was already aroused. Wet. Slippery. Her body called to his. God. Did she even know how to make herself come? Would she by the morning?

_Christ, baby._

Rogue was projecting. Jean had awakened to Rogue's erotic images of Logan running his hands over his body, a low growl rumbling through his heavy chest as he threw his head back and writhed with pleasure, roughly stroking his thick cock. Jean immediately enhanced her shields. She knew that Rogue hadn't done it on purpose. Most people weren't even aware they leaked thoughts, and Rogue was still learning how to keep from projecting.

The content of fantasy surprised her a little. Most young women were more focused on their own pleasure, creating elaborately romantic images that were a far cry from the reality of actual sex. The graphic, erotic image of a man crudely pleasuring himself wasn't the usual teenage fare. It was a more adult fantasy, and it was startlingly explicit; beginning with his hands opening that Indian head buckle and slowly working down the zipper, exposing the erection beneath. He hauled it out without ceremony and it jutted up out of his open pants, thick and proud.

Next it was the sounds. His breath in short, shallow pants. Growls. Deep grunts of pleasure. Long fingers lingering where it felt best; a thumb on his frenulum, fingertips across the glans, edging along the corona until it became slick with pre-ejaculate. Tickling into the thick tangle of dark public hair. As the doctor who had examined and treated him on more than one occasion, she was aware Marie's fantasy was undeniably accurate, down to the smallest physical detail. She'd never seen him aroused, but she was the one to remove the torn uniform from his bloody flesh. She too had seen every freckle. Every mole. Every whorl of dark hair. It was certainly enough to make her wonder how in the hell Rogue knew some of those more intimate details.

She'd tried to maintain a clinical detachment from Rogue's thoughts, but it was difficult at best. The fantasy had been very vivid. The sensual way he touched himself, without hesitation or reservation of any kind. The curve of his spine as his back arched. The way his hips moved as he thrust into his fist. The play of musculature across his back and thighs. The tightening of his belly. The sweat on his skin, plastering down the wild hair as he got more excited. How his eyes drifted open and closed as he drew close. The growl deep in his chest as he shuddered and strained. _Darlin', please... OhFuckJesus, yes!_ Thick pearly stripes of semen over his chest and fingers. His other hand clenched in the crisp, white sheet.

Something else about the construct bothered Jean, too. Even the way he touched himself was right. It wasn't the way an untried virgin imagines a man would touch himself. It was the way an adult man in his sexual prime touched himself; a little rougher, a little harder and faster than a woman would. That surprised her too. How could Rogue possibly know _that_? Was it some lasting echo of him in her head or was it something more disturbing?

The erotic images had woken Jean up, but now she heard footsteps in the hall again.

Jean opened her door and looked into the hall. Logan was standing outside Rogue's door. She blushed, feeling her skin warm at the lingering images in her head. It was hardly his fault, but she couldn't help her reaction to his physical presence. He was just a few steps from her. It was too close. Too intimate. She could see too much. His eyes were shut and he had a terrible look of loneliness and need on his face. He looked broken, lost, almost like an animal that had been separated from its mate. The thought shocked her. Logan was... well, Logan. He was the quintessential loner and Rogue was just a girl.

"Just a girl."

Jean hadn't even realized that she had spoken that sentiment out loud until Logan whirled around to face her. He was very obviously fighting for control. For a moment she saw the dark burn of passion in his eyes before he could hide it from her. His face was flushed and the tendons were standing out clearly on his neck. At his sides, his hands were clenched and he was obscenely erect. She was instantly aware that she had intruded upon a very private moment.

"I know she's just a girl, Jean. That's why I'm on _this_ side of that goddamn door," he snarled at her before storming off down the hallway.

_Lucky Rogue._

Jean squelched that thought almost before it had formed. She had made her choice long ago and obviously so had Logan. She was surprised but not upset. He clearly had some hard limits when it came to Rogue and Jean couldn't help but be swayed by the quiet way in which he honored Rogue's youth. She went back to bed, snuggling into Scott's familiar warmth and strengthening her shields before she fell back asleep. The last thing she wanted in her mind was more of Rogue's erotic images of Logan.

She had far too many of her own.

Logan stopped outside the Professor's door. There was only one more thing he had to take care of before he could go. He knew Marie would understand. She was fine with him leaving for a few days to put some distance between them so he could have a little time to let things settle. Last time he had been gone nearly a week. He wondered how long it was going to be this time before he could talk to her and remember the way she had looked at him, or the way she had smelled, or the sexy little sounds she had made, without losing ground to the Wolverine.

_Less thinkin', more action, bub, or you'll never get outta here._

He chastised himself internally, hitching the pack on his shoulder up higher before knocking on the study door.

"Come in, Logan. I've been expecting you," Charles said in his calm, measured tones. "Would you like some tea?"

_Tea? Hell no, I don't want any goddamn tea. I just wanna say my piece so I can go with a clear conscience._

"A simple no would have sufficed," Charles said wryly.

"Get out of my head, Chuck." Logan snapped at him.

"Very well, Logan. Would you care to sit down?" Charles gestured to the chair by his desk.

"No, I'll stand," Logan said as he rested his hip against the chair. "I need to talk to you about Rogue."

Charles nodded. He took a sip of his tea and carefully replaced the cup on the saucer.

_We're together, or we will be soon. She's mine, but I haven't touched her... yet._

Elation, possession, love, desire, hope, lust, frustration, fear, arousal.

Logan's thoughts were a jumble of conflicting feelings and emotions.

"So, that's the way of it then?" Charles said in his cultured, quiet voice.

"I told you to stay outta my head," Logan growled.

Charles smiled. "Your head is quite safe from me, I assure you."

"Then how did you..." He broke off, running a hand through his hair tiredly.

"One does not need to be psychic to understand the forces at work here. You are in my study at two in the morning with your packed bag at your feet, looking quite disheveled if I may say so. Forgive me, but it is also obvious you are uneasy and you wish to discuss Rogue, the person with whom you pass the majority of your time here. The young woman whose life you also traded for your own, not once but twice." He paused, smiling. "Have I missed anything?"

"No." Logan scrubbed a hand over his face. He wasn't a man of many words. He figured he should just say what he came to say. "I've been talking with Rogue. We've come to a decision." He looked at Charles but his expression was unreadable. "Normally I wouldn't be talkin' about this sorta shit with anyone. I like my private life kept that way."

Charles nodded, waiting for Logan to continue.

"But I figured I owed you at least this much seein' as how this is your house and Rogue is a minor in your care." Logan looked Charles in the eye and said without hesitation, "Rogue and I talked. We both want this. We're gonna wait 'till she's eighteen before beginnin' any kind of romantic relationship. 'Till then, things are gonna stay the same way they are now. I swear I'm not gonna lay one finger on her 'till she's eighteen, and I mean that."

"I see."

Logan's eyes were fierce. "I'm not lookin' for your acceptance or approval. We wanna be together and we will. It's that simple. I just wanted to assure you, man to man, there won't be any inappropriate behavior under your roof. I respect Rogue far too much to take the last of her childhood from her before she's ready."

"I understand completely, Logan. I never doubted your intentions concerning Rogue were anything less than honorable."

"Good."

"While you are a teacher at this school, Rogue is not one of your students. That would be my only concern. I do appreciate your forthrightness, although how I feel about the matter is of no consequence. Rogue is perfectly capable of making her own decisions."

Logan's eyebrow rose.

"You are aware the age of consent in this state is seventeen?"

"Christ, you too?" he muttered.

Charles stifled a smile at that. He was mildly surprised that the sticking point here seemed to be with Logan. He was not a man known for his restraint.

Curious.

"She is a most outspoken young woman. I have the utmost confidence you will handle the situation honorably." He chuckled softly. "However, I am quite certain the others will need some time to adjust."

"One-Eye can stick it where-"

"Logan," Charles said sternly, but not unkindly. "It will be difficult for him. He is very protective of Rogue. He has come to care for her like a sister." Charles looked pointedly at him. "And she is still quite young."

"Alright, I'll try to cut One-Eye a little slack," His teeth flashed and Charles had the sense that it was less a smile and more a warning. "Occasionally."

Logan picked up his pack and turned to go. He stopped at the door. "Thanks, Chuck," he said quietly before he left the study.

"Have a good trip, Logan." Charles said as he watched Logan leave.

With a quiet smile of satisfaction gracing his features, Charles reached for his tea.

_I'm so very glad you finally found what you were looking for, Logan._

* * *

 


	8. Tenderness

Logan stayed away almost two weeks that time, falling back into his old life; the beer, the bars, the fighting. He wandered around from place to place with a distinct sense that nothing was the same as it was before.

_Before Marie._

No longer was a bar a place he could lose himself and the wandering wasn't as satisfying or as distracting as it used to be. They were all just ways to kill time before he got back to her. He wasn't sure he liked that she had changed him so much so fast. That independent part of him warred with his need for her, but it was no contest. She won hands down every time.

_Logan the loner is lonely._

_Christ, if that wasn't so pathetic, I might laugh._

He'd spent the last fifteen years of his life doing nothing but moving from place to place, looking for answers about his past. It had consumed him. It wasn't what he had been doing with his life - it _was_ his life. He had come to the realization that although he would probably never completely stop caring about those answers, he didn't want the search to be his whole life anymore. He'd be damned if he'd let the next fifteen years of his life pass the way the previous fifteen had. He wanted those years, and he wanted to spend them with Marie.

Since they had admitted their mutual attraction for each other, Logan spent less time thinking about the what-ifs of a relationship with Marie, now that it was certain, and more time thinking about the mechanics of making it work. It was kind of like crossing a mountain before you could cross a river. While you were aware the river was up ahead, you didn't devote time and energy to the where and how of crossing over it while you were still devoting all your resources to crossing the mountain.

Logan smiled. He and Marie had found a pretty direct trail up that mountain. They knew the path. All that remained was walking it. Well, that part was easier said than done. He wondered if walking this particular path was going to kill him before Marie turned eighteen.

_Nobody's ever died from bein' horny, bub._

Logan snorted.

True, but not many people had a healing factor like he did. Sometimes it didn't matter how many times he satisfied himself, his body would just recover and he was right back where he started; sweaty, wanting and covered in the evidence of his recent exertions. Deep down, he knew that he would only be satisfied with Marie. Anything less was simply not enough. It was something deeper than just a physical release.

_It really is gonna be a long, hard year._

Logan grimaced at his choice of words. He had better things to think about now anyway. Like how to get around Marie's skin. It was one of his favorite things to think about. He wondered if the animal part of him was attracted to her in part because she was the ultimate challenge - and he just couldn't back away from a challenge, direct or otherwise. The human part of him wanted to be able to hold her and kiss her mouth and touch her skin without a barrier between them. But the truth was that Marie was neither of those things. She wasn't a challenge to be conquered and she wasn't touchable in any normal sense of the word. At least not where bare skin was involved. She was just herself. The person who looked at him and saw more than the sum of his enhanced parts.

_Hell, I'm a pretty creative thinker when I wanna be. I'm sure in the next year I can think of somethin'... a whole lot of somethin's._

But there was more to think about than finding ways to get around Marie's untouchable skin. It was almost Valentine's Day. He didn't put much stock in overly commercialized holidays, but he didn't want Marie to think that he hadn't remembered her. Even though they had agreed that everything would stay the same until she was eighteen, he still wanted to be there. Even if they had never had their talk, he still would have wanted to be there. _With her._ Somehow it was both better and worse now that she was almost his girl.

_Hell, even Visor Boy has a girl._

He smirked. He even knew what he wanted to get her. It couldn't be much. Certainly nothing overt since he had promised that things would stay the same, and he was going to keep his word even if it killed him. Gifts of a more romantic, personal nature would have to wait for another year.

_Years._

It always surprised him that he thought about his relationship with Marie in terms of years. Somehow the idea wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as it should have been. He wanted years. He wanted years with her, a lifetime.

She deserved better than him.

_Half a man._

He could never be more than half a man. The animal in him would always be there. He was a walking, talking freak show between the experiments, the nightmares and the rage. He didn't even know who he really was. He didn't know his real name or how old he was. He was just half a man with no past who was only really good at one thing, fighting. Well, two things then. Fighting was the _other_ one. She deserved better, but she had chosen him and he was going to spend the rest of his days making damn sure she didn't regret that choice.

He was wasting time. He looked around. This place was a cesspool. It was smoky and dirty and it smelled of unwashed bodies, stale urine, and desperation. Even the beer tasted cheap. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to be with Marie. Not in any sexual way, at the moment. He just wanted to be near her, smell her fresh, light scent and sit with her and just talk. He wanted to share with her everything that he that he kept inside himself all these years. He wanted to learn everything there was to learn about her, to share those secrets with each other that only lovers shared. He wanted to make love to her, but more importantly he wanted to show his love for her and be loved in return.

_Jesus Christ._

_Love._

_I'm in love._

The idea in itself was shocking in its foreignness. He was distinctly aware that he was grinning like an idiot. He was drunk on thoughts of Marie.

_I'm in love with her and the best part is she loves me back._

That sounded sappy, even in his own head, but for once his jaded old soul just didn't care.

He had found his mate and he wanted nothing more than to howl his pleasure into the night.

_Life is... good._

Good was…. unfamiliar. Like happiness. Like contentment. They were things he never thought he'd have. The blurring of days, an existence - surviving, had become _living_.

Suddenly it didn't matter that he was going to have to wait almost a year before he could even kiss her, or that he was a man with no past, or that they might never get to make love without a barrier between them. He wasn't naive. He knew that their relationship was going to be difficult to say the least. Both of them carried a lot of baggage with them because of who and what they were. But it was worth it because even when they fought, he would still be fighting with _her,_ and that made all the difference.

Logan drove all that afternoon and into the night to get back to the school. It was a little past three in the morning when he let himself into Marie's room. He slipped silently into her chair. Her rhythmic, even breathing filled him with a quiet sense of peace as he watched her sleep. It wasn't long before she sensed a presence in the room and woke up.

"Logan?" She whispered into the darkness.

"S'me, kid."

"I missed you," she said simply as she sat up and reached for the light.

"Leave it off." She was beautiful in the moonlight with her hair spilled all around her bare shoulders in disarray and her mouth curved into a welcoming smile. She didn't move to cover herself. This time he looked and he let her see him do it.

He moved from the chair and knelt beside her bed. He held out one perfect white tulip and gently brushed its velvety petals down over her cheek and across her lips before pressing it into her palm. It was the kiss he couldn't give her because of his promise and because of her skin. He looked into her eyes and saw the understanding there.

_I love you, Marie._

"Happy Valentine's Day, darlin'," he said softly, instead. "It's not much, but it comes with a promise." Her smile widened. "You know why it hasta be this way this year - but next year, and the year after that, and all the years after that, we can celebrate any way you want."

_I love you, Logan._

Tears filled her eyes and she smiled at him, letting all the things she couldn't say or do this year pour through her gaze into his. He smiled back at her. The look of wonder and joy on his face was so intense. He had a wet sheen of tears in his eyes too. She brushed the petals of the rose over his cheek and lips, mimicking his earlier caress.

"Happy Valentine's Day," she whispered. "I'm glad you're home."

He stood up and smiled at her once more before he turned to go. He stopped at the door. "I'm glad I'm home too, baby." He whispered to her and he stepped through the door closing it softly behind him.

Logan grabbed the pack he had left outside Marie's door and went to his room. He dropped the pack by the desk and removed his boots. He was exhausted from the drive and from the effort it took to keep his control in check. All he wanted to do was fall into bed and dream of Marie.

He stripped off his clothes and turned to the bed. There was an envelope tucked between the pillows. He smiled, knowing it had to be from her. He pulled it out and opened it. Written on the card inside, in Marie's pretty scrawl, were the words, 'Happy Valentine's Day, Logan. I hope you like the gift.'

_Gift? What gift?_

He looked around, but he didn't see any gift, and it would have been pretty hard to miss it considering the minimal decor in his room. He lay back on the bed, wondering what her gift could be. That's when he noticed her scent on his pillow. He pulled back the sheets and slipped into bed. Her lush scent surrounded him. She had slept in this bed. The scent wasn't sexual. It held none of the musky notes of arousal. It was just light and fresh and unbelievably comforting. Closing his eyes in the darkness, he smiled at the similarity of their gifts. He had given her a kiss the only way he could and she had given him an embrace the only way she could. He pulled the covers tightly around himself. He could almost imagine her arms around him as her scent enveloped him. It was a soothing balm to his exhausted body and tortured mind. Surrounded by her scent, at peace at last, he fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

Logan joined Marie for coffee in the morning. He had only slept a few hours but he didn't want to miss spending a little time with her before her morning classes. He poured himself a cup of black coffee and slipped into the chair across from her.

"Mornin', darlin'."

They exchanged their usual greeting. It was nice. Familiar. A lot of the breakfast crowd was looking their way. If they were hoping for a romantic scene, they were going to be waiting a while.

Logan took another sip of the strong, bitter coffee and grinned at her. "Thanks for the gift, kid."

Jubilee bounced over to the table. "And just what gift would that be, Rogue?" she asked, eyes sparkling with merriment. "'Cause I'm just dying to know." As one of Marie's previous roommates, she had been privy to a lot of privileged information, including her feelings for Logan. But then again, that one had come to be pretty common knowledge around the school seeing as how after he had gone, she wasn't ever seen without his tags around her neck.

Jubilee wiggled her eyebrows at them both. Marie smiled at her. She loved her crazy friend. Jubilee was always in everyone's business, but only because she cared. Marie supposed that was why everyone let her get away with it.

"I gave him a card, Jubes, nothing special." Marie laughed but Logan saw the glitter in her eyes meant just for him.

Jubilee was crushed. "That's it?" she demanded. "No bueno! You two are hopeless, really and truly hopeless." She giggled.

"Takes one to know one, Juju." Marie's smile was wide and amused.

"What? Hey now! I'm just, you know, like, keeping all options open. You know that! So... a card? There's nothing else you want to confess? Nada? Zip?"

"Sorry, Jubes. You're out of luck."

"Disappointing! Did you learn nothing from being my roommate, grasshopper?" Her eyes danced. "So did he give you anything good, chica? Deets, girl. I needs them."

"A flower."

_A kiss. His heart. A future._

Marie smiled at Logan.

"Just one? Whoa, last of the big spenders, huh?" She laughed. "Even I thought you were more creative than that, Wolvie. It probably wasn't even red." She snickered.

He growled at her playfully, too happy with the world to be completely annoyed by her antics. "Keep on talkin', sunshine. I still needta pick someone to demonstrate the various kinds of chokeholds we'll be discussin' in class today."

Jubilee sobered. "Sure, sure. I was just kidding about before. Um, yeah, a flower is kinda... sweet." She yelped when Logan grabbed at her and laughed as she jumped back and turned to go. Damn, it was Valentine's Day at mutant high. There had to be some better gossip than one measly flower and a crummy card and she was going to find it. "I'm gonna motor."

Marie watched her friend's mad dash across the cafeteria and laughed. Valentine's Day at the school was an experience. There were so many kids here still only learning how to control their gifts. With tensions and emotions running high at the possibilities of romance, something always happened. It didn't take much for a gift to get out of control and incinerate a chair, or make it rain inside, or zap someone with a random burst of electricity.

Last year Bobby got a case of the nerves when he got a note from a secret admirer and he had accidentally frozen a good twenty feet of the cafeteria floor during lunch. It had caused more than one person to slip and spill food everywhere, creating a horrible mess. Marie laughed out loud at the memory.

"Somethin' funny, kid?" Logan asked.

"Mutants in love," Marie mused, "It's quite a show, isn't it?" As if on cue, there was a large crash and one of the tables at the far end of the cafeteria turned over and hovered about a foot off the ground.

"Dammit," Logan grunted. "I guess One-Eye wins the pool."

Marie raised an eyebrow at him.

"There's a pool?"

"Shit. Uh, no..."

"Oh my god, there is! C'mon. What was the buy in?"

A furtive glance.

"Fifty," he rumbled under his breath.

"Nice."

"Forget you heard that, darlin'. 'Ro'd nuke my ass if she knew I toldya 'bout the pool."

She hummed a familiar tune. "I disavow all knowledge..."

He chuffed, shaking his head at her sass and his misfortune. "Dammit. I knew I shoulda picked levitation."

"Rookie mistake."

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you'll get lucky next year."

_Oh, Jesus._

She was the picture of innocence but her eyes were positively on fire.

"Hey, if Slim can get lucky, there's gotta be hope for me."

Marie giggled.

They shared a smile and enjoyed the rest of their coffee in relative peace. Logan wondered if Charles knew about their early morning encounter. If he did, he wasn't talking and that suited Logan just fine. What had passed between them this morning had been the single, most tender moment he had ever experienced. He looked at her across the table and sighed with contentment.

_Sure is good to be home._

* * *

 


	9. Temptation

Two months passed, bringing the beginnings of spring to Westchester. The time moved quietly for Logan and Marie. They fell back into their old routine, having coffee together in the mornings and long talks late into the evening. Sometimes it was his room or hers, but more often as the weather warmed, they walked through the woods surrounding the school. They talked about almost everything but the darkest of Logan's memories and the things Marie had in her head from the times they had touched.

She did ask him her personal questions. A few sent him over the edge, but he answered most of them with a rueful shake of his head and the distinctive pleasure of a slow, internal burn. Sex questions. Ethics questions. Anatomy questions. Random personal questions; some about him, or them, and some about men in general.

_How do I know if I've had an orgasm? Does a man's orgasm feel different? Can you have sex with a girl on her period? How do you know when you're really ready for sex? Why do people want you to feel guilty about masturbation? What's the big deal with porn? Will it hurt the first time? Have you ever had a virgin? What qualities do you find most attractive? What turns you on? What turns you off? What's a refractory period? What's the attraction with one night stands? Do only bad girls enjoy wild sex? Why is it okay for a guy to have multiple partners, but when a girl does it, she's a slut?_

When she got to 'have you ever seen a celebrity sex tape?' he nearly burst a gut. She was all over the place. Usually it was just a question here and there. Occasionally they'd settle in and go through a streak of them. Sometimes the questions were difficult, especially if they dealt with ethics or morals, but in general, he enjoyed answering them and they had sparked some surprisingly deep conversations of an intimate, but non-sexual nature.

She loved that he answered her honestly. He didn't sugar coat it and he didn't shy away from the difficult questions. He was open without being graphic, though he did tend to hold back more when she asked him personal questions instead of random general questions, but they managed. They steered clear of personal fantasies and questions that seemed to inflame rather than inform. They also hadn't yet discussed how they were going to work out their physical relationship when the time came. Logan had flatly refused to discuss that particular topic. He had growled something about it being too difficult to talk about and he had disappeared for a few days.

In the two months since Valentine's Day, he had only left twice. Once after refusing to talk about the intimate mechanics of their physical relationship and one other time that still made Marie blush when she thought about it.

The morning had begun innocently enough. They had talked over coffee. Logan told her that he was scheduled to lecture that morning and after that he had planned on going into the city to run some errands. Marie had learned that her morning class had been canceled because the Professor needed Storm, who taught the class, to help him counsel a new student who was having some immediate issues with a weather-related mutation.

So while Logan had gone to lecture, Marie had returned to her room. Once she had discovered that Logan could hear the sounds she made in here, even with their doors closed and a hall between them, Marie usually saved her intimate explorations for when Logan was away. While it excited her that her sexy little sounds turned him on, she had no desire to torture him. Not really.

_At least not yet, anyway._

She was inexperienced but not stupid. That was playing with fire. The animal in him wasn't dormant. Wasn't a pet or an amusing anecdote. It watched her with hunger and want. A razor's edge. Control earned the hard way, years of hurt and the punishing blows raining down in a metal cage. The last thing she wanted was to make him lose control and break his word, or worse, touch her skin in a moment of passion and hurt himself.

Today, however, was perfect. No morning classes for her, and Logan was occupied until after lunch. Marie stripped off everything but his tags and lay back on her bed. She closed her eyes and slid her hands sensuously across her skin, imagining how good it would feel for Logan to touch her this way. Her hands moved over her body knowingly now. She had been embarrassed at first, but he was right. It did feel good and he had said that with another person it was even better. She could hardly wait. Her breath hitched as she arched her body toward the lover in her mind's eye.

She wanted to drink in Logan with all her senses, experience him with every pore until each sense was filled with him to overflowing. He was incredibly primal. Some inborn, instinctive knowledge told her that with him, sex would be just as much about taste and scent and sound as it would be about looking and touching. She craved to know the things that she could only know by being his lover in the most intimate sense of the word. She wanted to know if his skin felt like it looked, sleek and taut over solid muscles and metal. Would it be as hot and smooth under her touch as she always imagined it to be? She had to know how his mouth tasted, what his skin tasted like, what his essence tasted like. Would he stop her from finding out? Somehow, she didn't think so. If she ran her hair over his flesh would he shudder?

She longed to drown herself in his scent until she couldn't distinguish it from her own. To lick the salt from his skin. To breathe in the dark, sweaty musk of lust unfettered. She wanted to hear that low deep growl of his, the one he made when he was truly aroused. To push him outside himself. Beyond control. To see his eyes flash gold and feel his hands, tight on her body. Holding her down. His hips between her thighs. Working. Driving. Making her take all of him. Letting her see everything. Most of all she wanted to look into his eyes while she was doing it so she could see what her touch did to him and let him see what touching him did to her.

It was different now than it had been in the beginning. Still new, but less tentative. More familiar. The ache. The slickness against her fingers. Not embarrassing now. Slippery. Sensual. Wet fingers pressed to her nose and mouth. She liked the scent. Should she feel guilty? She didn't. The flicker of her tongue. Curious. What would the scent do to him? What would he say to her? What would it be like to talk openly with him?

The first orgasm was almost too fast. Too quick. The second took longer. She couldn't decide where to focus her mind. Naked thoughts of him were too new; a buffet with too many choices. She had a bite of everything. The third was strong. Intense. It made her thighs shake and her breath come in shallow pants. She was empty. Empty inside. A slender finger wasn't enough anymore. There was an urge to be filled now, to contract around something hard and thick. To feel the weight of a body forcing her thighs apart, pressing her down; an anchor as the world compressed and flew apart like ash.

Much later, Marie stared up at the ceiling languidly. She was extremely relaxed, floating in a fog of sexual satisfaction. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd thrown herself over the edge, imagining Logan and every wild thing she wanted to do with him.

Some of it embarrassed her now that the desperate need had abated. In the bright afternoon sunshine, it seemed like too much. Was that normal? Some of those things shouldn't turn her on, should they? Licking the blades? Wanting him to force her? Wanting him to put out the claws and grinding on the back of his fist to orgasm? Her wetness shining on his knuckles and the dull edge? Wisps of her hair clung to the damp flesh of her temples, the dark strands emphasizing the flush that stained her creamy skin.

Slowly the sheen of perspiration faded from her cooling body, and she reached for the blanket. Idly, she wondered if Logan would let her do all the things she wanted to do with him. _To him._ She couldn't imagine not touching him, not responding to him with every fiber in her body. Holding back with him was simply unthinkable.

_Lord, he's created a monster._

She snickered. She tried to feel a bit guilty for wasting away the entire morning in such a way, but she couldn't.

_What time is it anyway?_

She turned over and looked at the clock.

_Crap! I'm gonna be late._

Marie decided the best option was to skip lunch and shower. She could smell herself, sweat and musk and an embarrassing, languid contentment. She could live with a little hunger, but there was no way she was going to go to class smelling like this. She practically flew into the shower. In record time she had showered and dressed. She might have been able to wash away the scent, but no amount of scrubbing could wash away the rosy flush of satisfaction from her skin. She knew nobody but Logan would ever notice and thankfully he was in town running errands.

_Thank God for small favors._

There was no time to dry her hair so she gave it a quick toweling and ran a brush through it, twisting it up on her head and pushing a pen through it. That would do for now. She had shaved off a bit of time that way and she figured if she ran she might be able to grab something from the cafeteria before class started. She was starving.

_Damn Logan for not telling me that I could work up a serious hunger this way._

She was out the door like a flash. She turned around and ran smack into a hard chest.

_Ouch._

She rubbed her nose where it had been crushed up against a heavily muscled body. One that suspiciously felt a lot like Logan's.

_Figures. Some days a girl just can't catch a break. Murphy's Law: Anything that can go wrong will, and in the worst possible way. Perfect. Hopefully, he'll think I'm pink-cheeked because I'm in a hurry._

"Late again, kid?" Logan asked grinning as he took in her wet hair and rumpled appearance. "You fall asleep in the bath or somethin'?"

"Or something." She laughed. "I gotta go, Logan. I'm gonna be late for class." She was eyeing the apple in his hand and flushing a bit.

"Hungry?" He tossed her the apple. He could always grab something to eat in town. "Let me grab my keys and I'll walk down with you. I think I left 'em in your room last night when I went to bed." He headed for her room.

"Logan, wait."

"Go ahead, baby. I'll catch up in a second." He already had a hand on her door.

This was like some horrible train wreck unfolding slowly before her eyes. She knew what was going to happen but was powerless to stop it.

_Yeah, I think I left those keys on her desk... and somethin' in this hall smells funny._

He couldn't tell exactly what it was as the scent was too faint for him to identify right now. He had passed someone downstairs who smelled like she had drowned herself in perfume and his sensitive nose was still overwhelmed with the cloying scent of artificial peaches underscored with coconut. It made him think of a bad fruit salad and he couldn't get the sweet, syrupy stink out of his nose.

_I wonder why Marie is actin' so weird? Her room is probably a mess; panties on the floor or somethin'. C'mon, kid. It'd take a little more than that._

He opened her door and walked inside.

The heavy, musk of sex hit him like a sledgehammer. He took in the mussed up bed and there was no doubt in his mind how she had spent the morning. From the smell of things in here, it had been the _entire_ morning. Desire pooled hot and heavy between his legs and he felt his body grow hard at the lingering scent - and the erotic sensual images it evoked.

"Holy fuck!"

Thank god he hadn't walked in on her earlier. If he had, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from rolling her under him and touching every covered inch of her, promise or not. On some level, he had been aware that she was talking his advice, but knowing it and being confronted with the irrefutable evidence first hand were two _entirely_ different things. He violently snatched his keys from the desk and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

He had to get away from that scent.

Marie was frozen in place where he had left her in the hall, the apple still clutched in her small hand. Well that was fitting. He reached her in four steps and backed her against the wall with the sheer presence of his body. He put a hand on either side of her head, effectively trapping here there. He was growling deep and low in his chest. Marie could feel it resonating. He had kept his word, but only barely. There was a scant inch between them and his lips were so close to her ear she could feel his sideburns tickling her cheek. His breath was hot against her neck.

The urge to bite her was overwhelming.

Marie held perfectly still, knowing that the slightest encouragement from her would snap his tenuous control. She wanted nothing more than to surrender to him, to turn her head just a little and press her lips to his hairy cheek, but she knew what his word meant to him and how he would feel, after, if he broke his promise. So she clenched her gloved fists to keep from touching him the way she wanted to and she waited for him to regain control. With a shudder he finally pulled back from her. His eyes were wild and he had a tic in his jaw. He wouldn't look at her. Very quietly he spoke one simple command.

"Leave. Now. While I can still letcha go."

Marie turned silently and walked slowly away. She knew if she ran it would only entice the animal inside of him to give chase. Her heart was in her throat. She didn't worry for herself. She was ready for him to touch her. The only reason she left was because of his promise to her, to Charles, and to himself. He needed to give her that year for his own peace of mind. Turning her back on him was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

Logan focused on his breathing.

_In. Out. In. Out._

_Jesus._

_Let me be able to control it._

Finally he stopped trembling and his legs were once again obeying his commands. He didn't think he had the strength within himself to let her go. He had been so afraid he wouldn't be able to control his urge to touch her. Terrified that he wouldn't be able to keep the animal in check.

The animal in him had wanted to take her, right there in the hallway against the wall, hard and deep, imprinting himself on her so there would be no mistaking the truth. She belonged to him. His every sense screamed it until he could hear nothing else. Not his conscience, nor his reason, or even his honor. It was a far more basic need than any abstract concept like honor.

It simply was.

She was _his_.

That animal part of him wanted her still, utterly relentless in its pursuit. Elemental and instinctive, the primal drive to claim his mate was an urge he found almost impossible to resist. The man had wrestled control from the animal, but only by the smallest of margins.

This time he didn't even take the time to grab his pack, he simply walked downstairs without a single word to anyone, got on his bike and disappeared.

* * *

 


	10. Tensions

Logan was gone nearly three weeks that time. When he returned, he never said one word to her about what had happened, but he never again entered her room without first asking her if it was okay to come in. That he felt compelled to ask was just another reminder of how much things had changed between them. They still had coffee and talked as usual but there was always an underlying sense of tension between them now; intimacy without the softer notes of sexual satiation. Marie was glad that it was May and graduation was just around the corner.

Graduation was just one more hurdle she had to jump over. She knew Logan would find it easier to think of her as a woman when she didn't say things like, 'I'm sorry I can't talk tonight. I have too much homework.' Marie spent a lot of time studying as graduation neared and it seemed like a bit of a relief to Logan.

As it grew closer and closer, it seemed Logan was becoming more tightly wound. Marie was worried that another scene like before might snap his control. She also knew that if he really felt like he could no longer control himself around her that he would leave until her birthday. It was a hard road to walk. For the millionth time she wished her birthday was sooner that November third. That seemed like an eternity to wait.

The previous night she and Logan had gone for a walk in the woods surrounding the school. Marie loved to watch Logan in the woods, especially at night. He was truly in his element, a predator in his prime, prowling gracefully at her side. He always seemed more at ease there than he did anywhere else, particularly these days. It was during these nighttime walks she learned about Logan's playful side.

Sometimes he would disappear into the forest and sneak up on her, popping out from behind a tree or dropping down from a branch. Once he had appeared from his hiding place and tucked a wildflower behind her ear before melting back into the night. He seemed so free here and she loved listening to his quiet, rumbley laughter. She knew it was a side of himself he didn't show to many people. Logan - being Logan - didn't ever wax poetic about it; he simply told her he liked 'feeling the night.'

After their walk they had returned to Marie's room to watch a movie. Warm from the walk, Logan had shucked his flannel shirt and tossed it over the back of her chair.

_Lord, the man certainly does fill out that tank in all the right places._

If Marie had been privy to Logan's thoughts she might have laughed as his thoughts were running along similar lines.

_Christ, that little top. Those goddamn curves. Get your shit together, bub._

They settled in to watch the movie together. After it was over they talked a bit, enjoying one of the less tension-filled evenings they had shared in quite some time. Both of them had the same thought. Perhaps making it to November was going to be easier than they had anticipated. Eventually, Logan ran out of beer and Marie ran out of things to say and they said a quiet goodnight at her door before Logan went back to his room.

Marie closed the door softly, thankful that nothing had happened tonight to put a strain on Logan's control. It was nice to just relax for once and not worry that something she had unwittingly done had yet again twisted him into knots. While she appreciated the sentiment behind his reason to wait, the waiting itself was beginning to wear on her. This arbitrary period of enforced celibacy was slightly ridiculous given she had every right in the world to march down the hall and kiss him breathless.

The things she did for him.

Marie undressed and got ready for bed, thinking that it was getting more and more difficult to say goodnight to him. She wanted to stay with him all night long. To feel his chest rise and fall in sleep. To feel sated in his arms. Her body loose and his flesh soft and silky instead of full and imposing. She wanted to have that with him. To be vulnerable. A softening, emotionally as well as physically. After brushing her teeth, she returned to the bedroom and noticed his shirt hanging over the back of her chair. She picked it up and held it to her face, breathing in his scent. It was heaver, stronger than usual and she liked it. It made her wonder what he had been doing before they'd taken a walk tonight. The scent made a slow, hot and heavy feeling settle low in her belly.

_I love the way he smells._

Marie slid her arms into the shirt and pulled it around her small frame.

_Not as good as his arms, but still nice._

She turned off the light and slid into bed wearing nothing but Logan's shirt and his tags. The thought gave her a little thrill and she was sure he wouldn't mind. She borrowed clean things from his closet from time to time. If that was okay with him, surely he wouldn't mind her sleeping in one he had already worn. It was nice to go to sleep surrounded by his scent, comforting and soothing.

The buzzing of her alarm clock woke Marie again from her pleasant dreams. Another amorous dream of him. She didn't remember how many times she had hit the snooze trying to recapture the lingering, fluttery feelings, but she knew it was more than three, which meant that if she wanted to meet Logan for coffee, she was going to have to hurry. She jumped out of bed, brushed her teeth, put on a minimal amount of make-up and ran a brush through her hair. Reluctantly she removed his shirt and dressed in a pair of old jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. She added her ever-present scarf and gloves, zipped up her boots and she was ready.

Marie checked her clock. Skipping her shower had given her enough time to catch Logan in his room and return the shirt before they went down for coffee. Marie grabbed her backpack and Logan's shirt and headed for his room. She knocked softly on his door.

"C'mon in."

Marie came in and sat down in his chair, laying the shirt across the foot of the bed as she passed by. "Morning, Logan. I brought back your shirt. You left it in my room last night." He was in the bathroom shirtless and shaving.

_Wow, does he look good. Just the jeans and nothing else. Just like the first time I saw him. I'll definitely take a helping of that. Yes, please._

Her breath caught. She loved watching him shave. The intimate care of his body. There had been a lot of women in his past. She knew that. But none of them had been given this intimacy. She smiled, watching his the naked muscles of his back flex and move as he shaved with quick, precise motions.

Logan finished shaving and came out of the bathroom, pulling a shirt over his head as he emerged. He froze, staring at her with incredulous eyes, his nostrils flaring.

"What the hell?" He snarled. "Goddammit, kid. Why the fuck is my scent all over your skin?"

"Logan, I didn't mean-"

He cut her off. It wasn't just the scent of his sweat on her skin. Under it were the faint luscious notes of her arousal. That volatile combination sent him careening of the edge. "Christ, Marie, you smell like we've..." he swallowed hard, still looking at her in disbelief. "You smell like you just crawled out of my goddamn bed," he snarled, backing away from her now, giving her a clear path to the door. His eyes were positively feral. That combination of scents on her skin? He was going to lose it. He _was_ losing it.

She had never seen that look on his face before. It made what happened in the hall a few weeks ago look like kid stuff. She didn't wait for him to order her from the room, she just went. As soon as she closed the door she heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper and a low groan. Marie stood trembling outside his door. Her heart was beating loudly and she could hear the blood roaring in her ears. She was rooted to the spot, listening to the sounds Logan was making.

Marie was glad she was alone in the hall. Anyone passing by would have heard him. While he wasn't overly vocal, he wasn't suppressing his sounds either. Typical Logan, sex was another part of life. He didn't go around boasting about it, but he didn't try to hide it from anyone either. Marie was certain he wouldn't be embarrassed if anyone happened to overhear him. Such self-assuredness was incredibly attractive.

Marie left Logan's door and headed to the cafeteria. She was positive he wouldn't be joining her for coffee this morning judging from the sounds he had been making when she left. She had him in her head. While she hadn't delved too deeply into the more intimate memories she had absorbed from him, she knew enough to know exactly what those sounds meant.

A part of her was glad he wasn't going to be joining her for coffee. She was tired of him being upset with her for things like this when she never meant for them to happen. Granted, he never spoke about them when he got back from where ever it was he went when he disappeared, but it was difficult nonetheless.

She couldn't be too mad at him though. She knew this whole thing was a lot harder on him than it was on her. Marie finished off her coffee and headed to class, idly wondering how long he was going to disappear for this time.

Marie was absolutely shocked when Logan found her outside after class. She really wasn't in the mood to smile through lunch like everything was fine when it wasn't. Jubes would see right through that and she didn't want to talk about what was wrong.

"Hey, kid. Wanna go for a walk?" he asked, thinking that with his behavior earlier, he'd be lucky if she'd even talk to him at all.

She nodded and followed him outside. The fact that he hadn't used their standard greeting told her a good deal about his state of mind. They walked in silence over the manicured lawn and he led them into the woods. When he was sure they had gone far enough for certain privacy, he stopped. Marie sat down on a fallen log and toyed with the fringe on her scarf.

"I'm sorry about this mornin', darlin'."

Marie blushed, remembering his sounds. "It's okay. I'm sorry about the shirt-"

"Fuck the shirt. This ain't about the shirt." He cut her off. "It's about me bein' an asshole. It's not your fault, baby, it's mine. I'm sorry for snappin' at you the way I did and I'm sorry for what happened after even more."

"That you-"

He cut her off a second time. "No. I'm sorry that I didn't even wait 'till you were gone. I knew you were still outside the door and I couldn't even stop myself." He looked away from her off into the forest. "I hate that part of myself, darlin'. I hate the way it thinks and I hate it even more that there are times I can't control it. I don't wanna be that animal," he whispered brokenly. "Especially not with you."

"I know. And I don't want to be untouchable and seventeen," she sighed. "We can't change what we are. You can't deny the animal in you any more that I can shed my skin or suddenly age myself up five years so you feel better about us." She looked over at him. "I accept the animal part of you the same way you accept that you can't touch me." She smiled at him as she saw some of the tension drain from him. "Besides, I like it."

"What?"

"I like it. It makes me feel safe."

"Safe?" That blew his mind.

"Yes. Definitely. Safe. Settled but excited too. It's kinda sexy when you get all growly."

_Kinda sexy? Come on, Marie, it's downright dangerous and you love it._

Marie was certain now was not the best time to share that little gem of information.

"Marie," he scolded. But to be honest, he loved hearing that she thought his growling was sexy. It was such an animal thing. Sometimes he felt uncomfortable about that aspect and he was thankful she liked it.

She laughed lightly but her face was still serious. "What's different this time?"

"You mean how come I didn't run?"

"Yeah."

"Because it doesn't help."

Marie looked at him quizzically.

"Well, I'll probably always like just gettin' on the bike and goin'. I don't s'pose that's gonna change. I like the freedom," he said, and Marie nodded. "But runnin' from our problems ain't helpin'. Sure, the distance helps some, but a long drive could do that. The days and weeks I'm gone - that's just me bein' a dick. I feel the same way whether I'm here or I'm there. Eventually, I have to deal with it, so this time instead of pissin' and moanin' about it in a bar for two weeks, I decided to just deal with it now."

_I guess Marie ain't the only one who had some growin' to do. That fuckin' hurt._

"I'm not sayin' that I'm done runnin'. I'm just done runnin' from you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks, Logan." Marie smiled at him, her heart in her eyes. "Because it's not really that easy for me either sometimes."

His expression was open but a little sad. "Hard on ya when I go?"

"Some. It's not just that. You know I have a temper. I'm kinda tired of you blowing up at me for things that aren't my fault or that I can't control. Sometimes I just wanna go off on you and while I realize that's not the best idea, it's like I'm all wound up with no way to come down after. I know we don't really talk about it when you get back, but it's still pretty rough. I get it's difficult for you... I really get that, but sometimes it sucks for me too."

"Sorry."

"It's just..."

"Hey. Don't stop there. It's just what?"

"It's just sometimes I wonder if all of the knots we're trying ourselves into... if all that's really worth it for just for a date change. November is a long time away," she added gently. "Sometimes it feels a little like this thing with you sticking it out to the bitter end, the challenge of that, has become more important than the reasons you wanted to wait in the beginning. You hate to lose at anything."

He thought that over.

"There's a lot I wanna say to that. You're right, I don't liketa lose. Fuckin' hate it. And it is a challenge. Something hard I set for myself that I wanna do good at. It's important to me to prove to myself - and to you - that _I'm_ stronger. Not him. Not the animal. _Me._ Before anythin' happens with you, I hafta know that I'm the one drivin' this train."

She squeezed his hand lightly. "Logan-"

He shook his head and cut her off.

"It ain't just about that though. It's... umph." He drew in a deep breath and collected his thoughts. "I'm- I don't have a real good track record. I've fucked up almost everythin' good that's ever come my way. You- you're the best thing. I don't wantcha to be somethin' else I fucked up. I can heal from a lot, baby. But not that. Not that."

"You're not going to hurt me."

"I dunno." He didn't seem too sure. "Look, I know it seems stupid to you. The waitin'. It ain't about a number. It's about earnin' the right to have ya. And makin' sure that when I do, it's because it's the right time, not just because I couldn't wait."

Her eyes were wet. "Logan, you've saved my life twice. How much more can one man give?"

He smiled softly.

"As much as you need, kid." The tender look eased into something more playful. "Besides, that was easy, darlin'. A goddamn cakewalk compared to this." He shrugged lightly, pulling her to him. It was less a hug and more a full body press, but a nice one. A sweet one. "We good?"

"Definitely all good here."

Logan grinned at her. "Good. Enough of this Oprah shit. I'm hungry. You wanna go for burgers?" Enhanced healing meant enhanced metabolisms that needed a lot of food to keep up with the demand.

Marie laughed. That was the Logan she knew. Gruff and prickly with a heart of gold and a soft side nobody but her knew about. Her eyes twinkled at him. "Ok, race ya back."

He watched her departing form through the trees, feeling a warmth in his chest. This thing with her, it was getting out of control. He knew it. She knew it.

It was only a matter of time now.

* * *

 


	11. Celebration

Marie almost couldn't believe it. She had done it. Graduated. While it may not seem like much to some, it was a big deal to her. When she had left home so young, it was another dream she thought she'd never see come true. She unrolled the diploma and traced the fancy writing with a gloved fingertip. The next time she went shopping with Jubes she would have to get a frame. She wanted this displayed as a reminder that even when things seem impossible, some dreams could still come true.

On one hand, she was happy that school was over. She knew that Logan would be pleased too; not just for her accomplishment, but also that his girl wasn't in high school anymore. He had never said anything about it, but she knew it bothered him because it was an unmistakable reminder of her youth. Although she was glad about that part, she was sad too. Most of her friends would be leaving for college at the end of the summer.

While she didn't hold it against them that they were leaving, it was still hard to deal with. She was excited for her friends, knowing that for them, college would be an exciting adventure, but sad too because she wouldn't be joining them. She had opted to take correspondence courses because of her gift. There was a silver lining to that cloud though because she would still get to be near Logan.

Marie sighed softly as she walked down the hall to her room. It was unusually quiet this afternoon because almost everyone had gone into the city for the graduation party the professor was giving. Marie had chosen to stay behind, despite the shameless urging of her friends. It wasn't that she didn't feel like celebrating with everyone, but she didn't like crowds. They were too unpredictable and the last thing she wanted was to suck the life out of someone who got a little crazy and accidentally touched her. She hated the idea of hurting people and her head was full enough already.

She opened the door to her room and smiled as she remembered how Logan's eyes had rested on her through most of the graduation ceremony. In typical Logan style, he had come up to her after it was over and had given her a hug, the only one she'd gotten all day. Marie laughed to herself.

_The Wolverine always did like to live dangerously._

Logan had looked her over in her cap and gown and flashed her a grin.

"I always did like ya in black, darlin'," he'd said.

Anything black as long as it wasn't that damned uniform. He really didn't like the idea of her wearing _that_ black, but he had his own little fantasy cache of thoughts about Marie wearing black. At the top of the list was her long, black opera gloves. His favorites. Just watching her slip those on and stroking the fit right over her milky skin was enough to make his skin prickle hotly with anticipation.

Her eyes danced as she leaned in and whispered that she was wearing a few black items underneath the gown too.

"Satin?" The word was barely a whisper; smoke and longing and a hint of real heat.

He shouldn't have risen to her bait, but sometimes it was just too hard to rein it all the way in. Especially like this when she was deliberately playful. They were surrounded by a sea of people. She only ever teased him like that in public, when it was safe.

She shook her head and traced the word LACE into his palm with her gloved fingertip.

Oh, Christ.

He'd be able to see her nipples underneath. Now the fantasy image had black satin gloves and lace lingerie. He closed his eyes to better picture the image. A lacy black corset. Black silk stockings with that sexy line up the back. No panties.

_Yeah. Fuckyeah._

Definitely no panties. And- and a scarf. Something sheer so he could kiss her, and thin enough that he could taste her through it right away.

His eyes were still closed. To anyone else he probably looked bored out of his mind. Marie knew better. It made her feel pretty. Confident. Strong.

His eyes opened.

"Welcome back."

He chuffed softly. "Helluva trip, kid."

"Tell me about it sometime?"

"Sure. November."

Marie rolled her eyes but before she could answer, Jubes and Kitty had pulled her away for pictures. By the time they had finished, Logan was gone. Crowds weren't really his thing either.

_Unless he's fighting in front of one._

Marie was still laughing quietly under her breath as she made her exit. She closed her door and went to put the diploma on her desk before hanging up her cap and gown, revealing a pretty green wrap dress underneath. That job done, she turned around and noticed a single white rose lying on her pillow. She smiled and picked it up. She held it to her nose, breathing in the sweet scent before running it down over her cheek and lips. Nobody would believe that Logan's gruff exterior could conceal such a soft heart. She was amazed and humbled that he would choose to share such a vulnerable side of himself considering all he had been through.

As Marie was getting up to put the rose in water she noticed the corner of a wrapped package sticking out from under her pillow. She reached under and pulled it out. The wrapping was simple and a little crudely done. It made her chest feel warm that he'd cared enough to wrap it himself. There was a short note written in Logan's bold scrawl.

_I'm real proud of you, kid._

_Logan_

Marie smiled as she unwrapped the gift. Nestled in the tissue was a beautiful silver frame. She ran her hands over the polished metal, feeling the cool solid weight of it in her hands, her eyes flaring as she found a Tiffany's stamp on the back. He really was something else. It made her heart glow. Logan had amazing taste, not that you'd know it from looking at him. The extravagance of the gift shocked her a little. She knew fighting was pretty lucrative, but still.

He certainly didn't advertise his wealth, but he'd been fighting a long time and some of those purses were pretty damn big. Marie laughed lightly thinking about his appearance. The truth was even though he probably had quite a bit stashed away by now, he liked living simply. It suited him. Still, it was always difficult for her to accept gifts from him. He hurt for them. He bled for them. Bought them with the pain of his body and the force of his will. She was touched that he knew how much the diploma meant to her and that she would want to frame it immediately. It was proof that even impossible dreams could come true.

Carefully, she removed the backing and placed the diploma in the exquisite frame. She put it on the shelf above her desk alongside the box of Logan's cigars. She was just sitting back on the bed to admire it when she heard a knock.

"It's open," she called.

Logan came in carrying a box wrapped in plain brown paper and smiling. "Hey, darlin'. What kinda name is Rogue?"

"The kind belonging to someone who never again has to take a freakin' Summers' bio final," she made a face and then laughed. "Thank you so much for the gift. It's beautiful. You shouldn't have," he just shook his head. "But I love it."

He looked a bit embarrassed. "Hey, I knew you'd wanna show off it off."

Marie pointed to the shelf and smiled. "I already have."

Logan grinned. "Don't waste any time do you, kid?"

"Not when I want something, no." It came out suggestively, as she'd meant it to be.

"Heh. Be good or I'll take back your other present…"

"Wicked!"

"Back atcha," he rumbled, handing her the box as she settled down. She looked beautiful in the green dress with her make-up done up nice for a special occasion. She was sophisticated and elegant. The dress was somewhere between kelly and forest. He liked it, even though it was always shocking to see her looking so mature. It made both the sable and the platinum of her hair stand out. "The other present was the serious one. This one's just for fun."

With the delight of someone who didn't receive many gifts, she savored opening the box. Inside was a black leather jacket with a Harley Davidson emblem on the back. It smelled divine. "Logan, you really shouldn't have! It's too much."

"I wanted to," he said simply. "Try it on."

"Wait."

"Wait?"

She was pulling her gloves off.

His brow rose.

"Yeah. This leather is gorgeous. I hafta feel it…" She was flushing a little under his curious gaze. "It smells so good. I really have to touch it first." His body tightened as he watched her stroke the leather before holding it to her face and rubbing it against her cheek. "Mmmm…."

The sensuality inherent in that gesture made him smile. She was such a tactile creature. With her sense of touch denied to her so often, she often relied on her other senses and he liked that a lot. He watched as she slid her arms into it, running her hands down the front and into the pockets. She looked at him questioningly as her hands encountered something inside. Marie pulled them out. He had tucked a wrist length black leather glove into each one. She slid them on over her bare hands. The leather was thin and buttery soft. Logan motioned for her to spin around.

Marie turned slowly in a circle.

"What do you think?" She asked.

"I always did like ya in black, darlin'." He grinned at her.

_Lace. Satin. Leather. It's all good. God, Marie in black leather. A little focus here would be good._

The best part of all was her smile. He loved putting that soft look on her face. This afternoon it was also twined with lingering excitement and the joy of unexpected presents.

"Thank you, Logan. I love it."

She hugged him and pressed a tender kiss to his hairy jaw.

Nice. Now he felt all warm too.

"Thank me later, darlin,' right now we have some celebratin' to do. You look real pretty, baby, but get out of that get-up," he indicated to the soft wrap dress she had been wearing under her graduation gown. "And get into some jeans - if you're up for a ride that is." Logan's eyes were sparkling.

"A ride with you on the bike?"

He nodded.

Marie was surprised. In the past, he had always flatly refused her requests for a ride.

"I know you wanted to go to the party, kid," he said softly. "A ride's not as fancy as a party, but we can do a little celebratin' of our own and you won't have to worry about a crowd."

Marie opened her mouth to thank him but he cut her off. "I told you to thank me later, darlin'," he said stepping out the door so she could change. "Now get a move-on," he said chuckling from the other side of the door.

Marie laughed. That was her Logan. He didn't sugar coat it for anyone.

"I'm going, I'm going already." She called through the door as she hastily stripped. She pulled on her favorite old jeans and added a black belt and a white blouse with a 'V' in front that showed off the tags, among other things. She left the lacy black bra, urged on by some lingering glimmer of knowledge that told her he liked the trashy look. "Almost done," she said and she heard a grunt from his side of the door as she pulled on her black boots, the leather ones with the silver ring on the harness and the tire tread sole. She knew he liked those. She grabbed the jacket and pulled it on, sliding her hands into the new gloves as she opened the door. "Ready," she pronounced.

Logan whistled softly.

_Get a grip, bub, eighteen is months away._

Having Marie on his bike, dressed like that, with her thighs around him was going to be tough on his control.

_Tough, hell. It's gonna be straight-up murder._

But tonight was her night. He wanted to do something special for her and he would control himself if it killed him. He watched her walk down the hall in front of him, noticing the boots, the gentle sway of her hips, her amazing ass, and the way the jacket made her waist look so tiny.

_Fuckin' perdition, right there._

As they passed through the gates of the school, Logan opened up the engine. Marie loved the feeling of freedom. The exhilaration; both from the acceleration and from being so close to his big body. The wind was in her hair and her arms were around Logan and the school was rapidly disappearing behind them. All good things. Marie was glad that he'd finally relented and let her go without a helmet. She closed her eyes, enjoying the wind on her face.

Back in the garage, Logan had handed her a helmet with a comment about her lack of an adamantium plated skull. Marie smiled remembering the argument.

"Please, Logan, this time I want to feel the wind in my hair - ride the way you do. Just this once I want to feel free." Marie could tell he was warring with himself, his desire to keep her safe at odds with his wish to give her what she really wanted.

Finally he had relented. He'd never been one to follow the rules.

_Since when did I ever do the right thing anyway?_

He figured if by some freak chance she did get hurt, he could always just touch her, allowing her to absorb his healing gift again.

"Just this once, kid."

She put the helmet down and hugged him impulsively. "Fair enough."

Both Marie and Logan were trying to just enjoy the ride and look at the scenery as it sped by. They were both trying to not think about the fact that her arms were wrapped around his middle and her legs were cradling his lean hips. It wasn't working. Marie's hands itched to slide up under his shirt and explore his warm skin and the muscles she could feel bunching and flexing under her fingertips as they rode. Her thighs tightened involuntarily around him.

Logan grunted, stopping the bike on the deserted strip of road. He planted his foot solidly in the gravel shoulder. Without the air rushing by, he could easily smell her arousal.

_Christ._ _Why did I ever think I could do this?_

"Marie," he warned without turning around.

"I'm trying," she said tartly, smiling at his broad back.

"Try _harder_ ," he growled as the bike roared back to life and resumed its course down the empty stretch of road. The engine purred beneath them as they climbed the curving mountain road.

Despite the gruff warning, her hands still wandered a little. He'd expected it. To be honest, he'd been looking forward to it. She wasn't shy about touching him. First it had been her hands around his waist, with her pressed up against his back to get a feel for finding her balance on the bike as they had accelerated and leaned into the curves. As she'd grown more comfortable, her tight grip on him had eased. He felt her fingers slip down his chest to brush his belly, moving lower as she relaxed until they brushed the buckle at the front of his pants.

It made him hard, but the pleasure was slow and easy.

Her hands slid to his hips. She was more confident now, of his skill on the bike and her own balance, and of his acceptance of her inquisitive touch. Her hands slipped to his thighs, moving lightly up and down. It wasn't enough to send him over the edge, but it was certainly enough to keep him hard.

He found his hands wandering a little too. Reaching back to stroke her thigh and press it tighter against him. Reaching behind him to press her closer. He put his hand on her ass and pulled her tight up against him. He left his hand on her thigh afterward. They road that way a long while. When she wrapped her hands back around his waist, he covered them with one of his own, feeling her feel him. The gentle exploration was something more than a touch between friends but something less than an overt come-on. It was gentle. Easy. Even if it did make their blood sing.

As sunset approached, Logan pulled off to the side of the road at one of those scenic lookout points. It was deserted and it seemed to have fallen into disrepair.

Marie got off the bike, laughing to him about her numb butt and followed Logan down a set of rickety stairs. At the bottom was a small platform built on the side of the cliff. It had a low stone half-wall around it and a plain concrete bench with decades of graffiti on it.

Logan stepped aside and in that moment, Marie knew why he had brought her here. Her breath caught in her throat. The view was spectacular. The sun was just setting, bathing the tree-covered valley below in a warm golden light. A small river sparkled at the bottom of the valley as it caught the rays of the setting sun. Marie thought it looked like a river of fire glowing from the shadows of the valley floor.

Logan sat back on the bench, propping one foot up on the stone wall. "It's no graduation party," he said quietly, "But I come here sometimes." He paused. "It's... peaceful. I thought you'd like it," he finished lamely.

_Nice one, bub. She probably thinks it's borin'. Not too many people appreciate this kinda shit the way you do._

He felt like he could breathe here and he liked how it felt to be reminded he was just a small part of something much larger than himself. Nature took care of her own.

"It's breathtaking." Marie finally said, unable to look away from the view. "Thank you for sharing this place with me. It's beyond words."

He grabbed her gloved hand and pulled her down to sit in front of him on the bench. She sat almost in his lap but not quite; her back against his chest and his thighs around her hips as they watched the sunset in silence until the last rays of light had slipped below the horizon. He didn't let her hand go. Logan was glad she was the kind of girl who didn't feel the need to fill every silence with idle chatter. Somehow, he had always felt this place was too serene to be spoiled with too many words. He was pleased she felt the same. It felt good to share this place with her. They sat together in the twilight, touching each other's hands and watching as the last of the golden glow faded from the sky.

"You ready to go, darlin'?"

Marie didn't want to go but she knew they had to be getting back soon and there was always the added bonus of being able to wrap her arms around him as they rode.

"I'm ready," she said, slipping her gloved hand back into his as they stood and allowing him to lead her back to the bike. He got on first and she slid on behind him, wrapping her arms around his lean waist. He pressed her close. She leaned in, her mouth dangerously close to his ear, unwilling to disturb the peaceful quiet of this place and whispered, "Thank you, Logan. That was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"You're welcome, darlin'. Happy graduation."

Logan started the bike and headed back to the school. Marie watched the black road disappear under the wheels. With each mile she grew more confident. Somehow the future didn't seem quite as difficult as it had before. It was okay that her friends were leaving on their own adventures because she was heading home, to a future with Logan.

* * *

 


	12. Memories

It was a crisp September afternoon. The trees were a riot of fall colors and the sun was shining but the air was getting colder, hinting at the coming winter. Marie noticed none of it as she crossed the quad and headed up to her room. The day had truly sucked. Most of her friends had left for college weeks ago. She was too mature to truly be accepted by the students as one of them, but too young to fit into the adult's circle.

_That's a joke. With Magneto and Logan in my head there are times even the adults around here seem like children to me. I'm seventeen going on seventy._

On top of that, her session with the professor this afternoon had gone badly. They were still working to understand her gift, although Marie had flatly refused to touch any animals. Instead, they had been going over every moment of what had happened when Erik had touched her, dissecting every detail… which was a miserable experience in itself. When he'd put his hands on her, she'd tried to resist. Fought like hell to slow it down. To stop it from happening. The more she discussed it with Charles, the more it seemed there really was no way to limit the influx of another consciousness.

It was either 'on' or it was 'off'. Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to find the 'off' switch yet. It seemed that for every step closer she got to understanding her gift, she took ten steps back. Nobody, not the professor, not even Logan, knew that she had managed to control it once for a few brief minutes. She hadn't told anyone yet because she was afraid it was a fluke and she didn't want to get everybody's hopes up.

It hadn't happened in one of her sessions with the professor. It hadn't happened when she was working on it alone, either. One evening she'd been watching TV with Logan in his room and he'd fallen asleep with his head on her chest. She'd forgotten that she had taken her gloves off earlier because they'd had popcorn with a ridiculous amount of butter (his preference) on it while they'd watched a Red Dwarf marathon (her preference). When she looked down, she realized she'd been stroking his neck lightly, enjoying the feel of his rough stubble under her fingertips for a few minutes before what she was doing had actually registered in her brain. The second it did, her skin had flipped back on.

That part wasn't such a big deal. She'd gotten him a few times before, usually when they wrestled, but once or twice by accident. It had made her terribly guilty and anxious until he'd finally explained that he liked it. That the tingle made him hard. He'd been gone four days after that little revelation. That night, all he'd done was shift them so she was resting against his chest instead. It was the first night of many that they'd slept a few hours in each other's arms.

He'd carried her back to her own bed sometime in the small hours of the morning. She'd woken up in her own bed. Her jeans and socks were gone, but he'd left the rest before tucking her under the covers. The memory still made her smile.

That night was special to her for a lot of reasons, but today Marie was frustrated with the whole process in general. She knew it was possible to control it now. It was only a matter of figuring out how, but the harder she tried the more elusive the answer became. There was no way she was going to tell a soul what had happened. Especially Logan. Watching him get his hopes up just to have them dashed would kill her and she already felt bad enough about Logan not being able to touch her.

The professor had sensed her frustration today and had ended the session early. He had told her that a mind in turmoil would find no answers.

_No shit, Wheels._

Unfortunately, he had also told her that Jean required her presence in the lab tonight before dinner.

While the professor had been working with her mentally, Jean had been busy with the physical. She was trying to understand exactly how her 'gift' worked physically with the hope of finding an alternative way of controlling it. Researching mutations was a hobby of Jean's and Rogue's gift intrigued her more than most, simply because in a way, studying hers was like studying them all, since she had the ability to absorb any mutation.

Some of the tests and been interesting. Apparently some of the things she had absorbed had changed her physically. Thanks to Logan, her auditory and olfactory senses were slightly above the high end of normal for a human. Her lung capacity was off the chart. She also had retained some of his body awareness. For instance, the first day in Scott's self defense class, she had discovered her body knew instinctively when and where to move to inflict the worst possible damage while still protecting itself from attack.

Unfortunately, along with some of the more positive things, she had also received a healthy dose of Logan's dislike for doctors, labs, tests, and all things medical. So far, Marie had been able to put off having Jean draw her blood, but now Jean needed it for the next battery of tests. She was conferring with a doctor in the city, one Henry McCoy, who was very interesting in obtaining a sample of her blood.

Marie had made sure they were aware of her dislike, but she hadn't told them how the 'Logan' in her head had escalated her dislike into something beyond terror. While she had tolerated the non-evasive testing to see what kind of physical residue Logan had left inside her, she had refused to discuss the emotional part with anyone. He had saved her life with his touch and it had come at a terrible price. The very least she could do was keep his secrets.

And keep them she did, especially from Logan. She knew that he wouldn't be able to accept the fact that she had the sum total of everything he had ever felt or experienced in her head. Marie hadn't looked at all of it, but it was there. All her sessions with the professor had been about organizing and working through the thoughts in her head.

He might be the most powerful telepath in the world, but even he couldn't read her mind. Normally reading a person's mind was like reading a book, but reading her mind was like trying to simultaneously read a library of books that had all their pages torn out and mixed up together.

Charles wondered how Marie could deal with all those foreign thoughts in her head and not go insane. His one brief touch inside her mind had staggered him. It was different than reading multiple minds at one time. That he could easily do. This was different. She wasn't a set of distinct consciousnesses. She was a plural being, a melding of all of them. It took a very disciplined mind to control that level of chaos. In his opinion, the maturity of her mind was light years beyond her tender years.

Their conversations surprised and delighted him in turn. She could be quite stubborn, verging on frustrating, especially when she drew on Erik's consciousness. He could understand the draw for a man like Logan. She was very engaging and he was not in the least surprised that a man like him, who was very much led by his more feral instincts, would respond strongly to that enigmatic mind wrapped in youth and fertility. Those triggers had been driving men since the dawn of time, and parts of him were closer in tune to that primal part than most.

He had helped her with David and Magneto, but she had done most of the work on Logan's thoughts alone. He knew she had a lot of him still left in her head. While he couldn't read the thoughts, he could sense them just under the surface. Thoughts that he knew she couldn't or wouldn't look at. He knew she was trying to protect Logan's privacy, but he was worried that it was going to come at the expense of her own sanity. Someday those thoughts were going to surface, and he hoped that when they did, she would be able to handle the influx without going mad.

Marie checked her clock. She was due in the lab in thirty minutes. She went to her closet and pulled out a tank top and a button up shirt. If she was going to ask Logan to stay and hold her hand while Jean drew her blood, she needed a top that would bare her arms. The last thing Jean was likely to do would be to ask her to remove her shirt if Logan was around.

Marie snorted.

With the amount of tension between them now, Logan would probably be running for the hills if she stripped to her bra in front of him, anyway. The tank top should keep all parties happy while allowing Logan to remain by her side as Jean drew the blood. She could have just worn a t-shirt, but it was a chance to show a little skin, give Logan an eyeful and make Jean a little uncomfortable. It wasn't the most mature thing she'd ever done, but she really hated the lab and Jean drew her ire because she was in charge of it. Marie finished dressing and went to Logan's room and knocked.

"Yeah, darlin', c'mon in," he said, identifying her by scent before she had even asked to come in. He was relaxing in his chair, a beer in one hand and a mission briefing in the other. He noticed that she was a bit tense. "You okay, kid?"

"I have to go to the medlab. Jean wants to take some blood." She saw Logan shudder slightly. "I know you hate the lab, but could you come with me and, you know, hold my hand while she does it?"

_I feel horrible for asking you of all people. I know how you feel about labs because I feel the same way. But I have to do this and I can't do it without you there._

Logan could smell fear rolling off Marie in waves. He wondered what she was so afraid of. Not that he was comfortable in the lab either, and for a good reason, but her fear wasn't the usual run of the mill scared of needles thing and this lab wasn't so bad with Jean running things. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No," she answered quietly refusing to look at him. She didn't want him to know she had his memories and emotions, every single one of them, inside her head.

He could tell she wasn't going to talk. He hated labs, but it wasn't him that Jean was going to be sticking. Somehow, that thought didn't ease his discomfort. She was his girl and she needed him to be there or she wouldn't have asked. He could suck it up and do this for her. He'd let Jean run her tests on him when he'd first arrived here and he had lived. He hadn't let her stick him, but he'd put up with most of it.

"Sure, darlin'. We doin' this now?"

Marie nodded. "Yeah, Jean wants to do it before dinner."

Logan stood and grabbed his jacket. "Let's get this over with then." He smiled at her. "I'm hungry."

When they entered the lab they saw that Jean had everything ready to go. "I'll try to make this quick, Rogue. I know you don't like being in here." Jean smiled, trying to put her at ease. "The only person who hates this place more than you is Logan."

_No shit, sunshine. I wonder why that is? I know you're just trying to help, but this place makes my skin crawl._

Marie began to unbutton her shirt and two shocked pairs of eyes met hers. "It's ok, y'all, relax. I have a tank top on under here." Marie would have laughed at their faces, but her fear was threatening to choke her.

Once Marie was out of the shirt, she jumped up on the table. Jean was gloving up and the snap of latex made her stomach heave. She was trembling and her scent had changed from fear to terror. Logan took her gloved hand in his, rubbing his thumb gently across her palm. She quieted a little. She was whispering under her breath as Jean went to the other side of the lab to get the syringe. Logan listened to the almost silent mumbling with half an ear until he heard something that made his blood run cold.

' _... Sorry... if I hurt you. So, couldn't wait to get my shirt off again, huh? Where's your room? Is that your gift? Puttin' up with that guy? So read my mind... Why not? You afraid you might like it?'_

Marie's eyes were glassy but the words didn't stop.

Logan was floored.

_What the hell? God, how could she know that? I'm sure Jeannie never said... and I sure as fuck didn't..._

In that moment the horrible truth was inescapable.

_Oh Christ, no._

The animal inside of him keened in anguish.

_Memories. MY memories... Fuck._

His first instinct was to run, but Jean was back with her gloves on and a syringe in her hand. She was swabbing Marie's arm with a sharp smelling disinfectant.

His mind raced.

Marie had his memories. He wasn't sure which ones, but he knew she had to have some of the worst ones for a lab to be this terrifying to her. He shoved his feelings aside for the moment. He understood Marie's terror in excruciating detail. He couldn't leave until this was over. He understood now that Marie needed him here to do this at all. What was worse was that he realized that she would have tried to do it anyway even if he had refused to come.

This was getting worse and worse. He hadn't let Jean stick him with a needle when she had first run her tests on him. He couldn't. The very thought of it made him want to vomit, made the animal in him rise to the surface with only one thought. Self preservation.

_Kill them before they kill you._

Jean had pressed that needle to him and he had reacted violently. He'd been off that table with his knuckles pressed against her jaw and his hand at her throat before she'd been able to stop him.

And then he had run.

_Fuck. Marie's got more guts than I thought. More than me. I didn't do this. I couldn't do this._

Marie fought to control the terror. Images were breaking free from somewhere inside her, overwhelming her with their intensity.

_Drowning. Can't breathe. Oh God, they're cutting me. Wrong, Marie. Not you._

_Him._

The terror won out again.

_I'm trapped. The needles are coming closer. Please, not again. Don't hurt me again. So much pain, too much. I wish I could kill them. I wish I could kill myself. Anything to make it stop. Stop!_

"Kid?" Logan called sharply the second Jean was finished. It startled Jean and she backed up quickly, almost dropping the precious vial of blood. Logan cursed.

"Logan? What's happening?" Jean asked.

He ignored her. Marie was losing it.

"Hey, kid!" He said again, sharper this time, willing her to break free from the terror. He hadn't let Jean touch him with a needle. He had been afraid it would push him over the edge.

_Shit, now my memories are pushin' her over the edge._

If Marie heard him, she didn't give any indication. The images were coming faster now. This was much worse than any of his nightmares because this was real. She could feel the scalpel cutting through her flesh, feel the sharp stick and burn of the needle, feel the horrible sense of helplessness and hopelessness paralyzing her, breaking her will to fight, her will to live. And then the metal came, a molten sear that brought unimaginable pain.

Unexpectedly she jerked free from the terror with a tortured cry. She curled her hands into fists and jammed the knuckles of one hand up against him hard. She had one hand at his throat and the other at her own. The sight of her straining knuckles pressing at her tender throat sickened him.

The gesture wasn't lost on him, or on Jean, who was watching them in shock.

Logan felt sick. If Marie'd had claws like he did, she'd have one set buried in his throat and the other buried in her own. Her terror was so great she'd been driven to kill or to die to escape it.

Gasping, Marie wrenched her hand away from him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It was an accident."

She didn't seem to be aware that her clawless hands hadn't hurt him or that she'd had her fist at her own throat. She looked down at her hands and then back to his face. She was coming back to herself a little now.

_He knows._

Marie could see it in his eyes.

_Oh God, he knows... and Jean just saw me try to stab him like I had claws._

She was pretty sure Jean didn't know about the memories, but Logan did. The horror of it was etched on his face.

Ignoring Jean, Marie met Logan's eyes. She owed him that much.

"I never meant for you to know. Not _ever_."

She didn't care what Jean would make of that statement. Marie scrambled off the table and ran from the lab.

The boxed-in feeling of the elevator only amped her fear up more. She fled across the manicured grounds into the woods. She ran until she couldn't breathe and her legs gave out under her. The air was cold on her bare arms and the dried leaves on the ground under her scratched at her exposed skin. She noticed none of it. She stared up unblinking at the cold September sky.

_He knows._

Back in the lab, Jean was staring at Logan. He seemed frozen in place.

_All this time. All this time and she never said anythin' - not a fuckin' word._

Logan was nearly crushed under the weight of his own anger and self-loathing.

"What just happened here, Logan?"

Slowly Logan turned to look at Jean. There was no way he was going to tell her. If Marie had wanted anyone to know, she'd have said something by now.

_Hell, she hadn't even wanted me to know._

That hurt, but he knew why she'd done it.

_To protect me._

"I don't know, Jeannie," he lied as he lit out after Marie. "But I'm gonna go find her."

Her scent wasn't hard to track. She hadn't been concerned with hiding her trail, just with putting as much distance as she could between herself and the lab. He found her crumpled on the forest floor with her back resting against the rough bark of a tree. He pulled his jacket off and slid it around her bare shoulders. His movements were jerky, angry.

_He's mad at me._

Logan was furious. All this time she had known and never said anything. But overlying his anger and guilt was worry for her. How could she keep all of that shit inside herself and not have it affect her? How could she wake up every day and smile and laugh and be silly? How much of that had been an act? Logan didn't know what was real anymore. He felt another hot rush of anger at her for keeping it from him.

He should gather her up into his arms and hold her. Ask her if she was okay but that was pointless. He knew she wasn't. He wasn't either. He wanted to, but that wasn't what came out.

"How much, Marie?"

It was a long time before she answered.

"Everything," she said tonelessly.

He stared at her in shocked silence. He never imagined it was so much. So much he didn't want anyone to ever know, so much he didn't want to remember, the pain, the killing, the nameless faceless women, the terror and self-loathing. Feeling like an animal. A thing. An experiment.

With a roar of rage at himself, at her, at fate, he released his claws and drove them knuckle deep into the nearest tree, stabbing and slashing in a futile attempt to release the acute pain. Finally, chest heaving, he stopped and retracted his claws into his already healing knuckles. He turned to look at her expecting to see fear or tears. He saw neither. She was utterly still, staring at him with eyes that were far too old for her tender years.

_My fault._

"Why aren't you cryin'?" He asked, wanting to know how she could be so calm when it seemed as if his world was falling apart.

"Some pain runs too deep for tears," she said quietly.

He sank to his knees in front of her. He knew that kind of pain all too well.

_How could she possibly want me now? How can I ever look her in the eye again?_

Logan felt a profound sadness, afraid this thing with Marie was over before it had even started, but he was angry too. Even though he knew it was wrong he lashed out at her, wanting to hurt her, as he had been hurt, an instinctive defense.

"Did you get a good look at 'em, kid? Poor pathetic fucked-up Logan. Is that what we have between us? Pity? You wanna fix me? Fix the broken man? Tame the animal? What the fuck kinda game are you playin' with me?" He just couldn't believe she could see all that shit and still want him.

Her tired eyes were snapping with anger now.

"It was never a game. I've always wanted you - wanted to be with you even before we ever touched - and after... " The anger faded from her eyes. "After we touched, I just wanted you more. I don't want to fix you or tame you. I love the way you are." She paused, looking into his eyes. "And that stuff in my head - your stuff - it's there, but I haven't looked at all of it."

Logan looked at her in disbelief.

"For fuck's sake, why did you have to look at any of it?"

"I had to. I had to work through a lot of it so I wouldn't lose myself in it, so I didn't have to fight so hard every day to just be Marie. I looked at what I had to... but some stuff I chose not to look at, the private stuff." She blushed. "The sexual stuff. And some stuff I couldn't look at, the dark stuff, the experiments and... " her voice trailed off.

"Then what the hell happened in the lab?"

"I don't know. That's never happened before, memories surfacing like that. Maybe I have too much in my head still that I haven't worked out. Maybe the fear of the needle triggered something. I just don't know. It wasn't like the nightmares at all."

_Damn, Marie. Way to go. Can't you keep your big mouth shut?_

"Nightmares?" Logan had gone still and Marie had gotten fuck-all too quiet.

"Crap."

"Marie?"

"Yeah, your nightmares. I have them sometimes. But some are Erik's. Some are just mine. Some are, like, the combo platter. So, I have them, yeah. Not as often as before, though." She looked away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Why the fuck didn't you say anythin'?"

"God! Would you if the situation was reversed? Why do you think? Jesus, Logan. I was trying to protect you," she snapped.

"From my own goddamn thoughts?" He was just as angry.

"From knowing they hurt me. That I wake up sick and scared. Throwing up, sometimes. That there's a whole damn truckload of them up there that could swallow me up at any time."

_God, I've hurt her so much and she was just tryin' to protect me, even when it put her in danger._

In his mind's eye he saw her as she had been in the lab, knuckles pressed to her throat wishing she was dead, and he had been the one to drive her to it.

"Christ, kid."

"I'm so sorry, Logan," she whispered.

He looked at her. She seemed too small and fragile to be able to deal with all of his darkness on top of her own problems, her own pain.

"Shhh... You have nothin' to be sorry for, darlin'." His voice broke. "But I do and I'm sorry. For everythin', Marie. I'm the one who did this. You gave you this."

"Bullshit. You gave me life. Breath. Hope."

"Mmph."

He hadn't even been able to put aside his own pain tonight to deal with hers first. He reached for her and drew her into his arms. They held each other tight for a long time rocking each other slowly in the cold September air.

"Do- do you still want this? Want us?" She said against his chest, afraid of the answer.

"Yeah, I do, darlin', more than anythin', but I'm afraid you're gonna see the rest of the shit in your head someday, see what I'm really like, and not want me anymore," he whispered against her hair. "That it'll be too much. Too heavy a load."

Marie held him tighter. "That will never happen, no matter what memories of yours I see. I know your heart like you know mine. You're in me. A part of me now. I've always wanted you and that's not ever going to change."

Logan was humbled by her complete acceptance and unconditional love. Only Marie walked where even angels feared to tread.

"I love ya, kid," he said softly.

"I love you too, Logan."

He stood and pulled her to her feet, brushing the leaves from her clothes. This was far from over, but their hearts were too full of each other right now to think about anything else. They walked quietly hand in hand back toward the school.

In time they would work out the rest.

* * *

 


	13. Nuances

When Marie and Logan got back to the school, they stopped by the lab to assure Jean that Marie hadn't suffered any lasting physical effects from the earlier episode. Jean told them that she had talked with the Professor about what had happened and he wanted to see them both as soon as they got back. Together they made their way to the Professor's study. Logan stopped her outside the door.

"You up for talkin' about this right now?" He asked quietly, giving her hand a squeeze. "You just say if you're not. I'll back ya. Nobody's gonna make you do anythin' you don't wanna."

"Yeah. Thanks. I'm good. It's not like he's gonna read my mind or anything." She smiled at the look on his face.

"We're a pair, huh? Yours is confusin' as hell and mine's full of holes."

"Amen to that," she sighed, knocking softly.

"Come in, Rogue, Logan. Please, have a seat." Marie sat down but Logan continued to pace about the room.

"Logan, please," Marie intoned softly, and to Xavier's surprise, Logan eventually settled into a chair near her.

_Most interesting,_ Charles thought, suppressing a smile.

"Thank you both for coming promptly. Jean informed me about the incident in the medlab," Charles began. "How are you feeling?"

"Better now, thanks."

"I'm very glad to hear that, although while I am relieved you have recovered, I am concerned about the possibility this may not be an isolated event." He paused. "Rogue, would you care to discuss what happened?"

Charles caught her glance at Logan and his almost imperceptible nod.

_Even now she protects him. Yes, most interesting indeed._

"Something happened in the lab. I remember seeing Jean go to get her gloves so she could take my blood and then," Marie's voice hitched. "And then the memories... " She shuddered. "They came too fast and too strong to control. I saw some of the things they did to Logan... felt what he felt." Marie's eyes filled with tears, not for herself but for him, for his pain.

_Shit, she felt what I felt? I'm so sorry, Marie. Nobody should hafta feel that kinda pain._

Logan looked green.

Marie was trembling and Logan reached out, taking her gloved hand in his. The look he sent Charles dared him to say anything.

Charles acknowledged Logan with a small nod.

"I see," he said to her. "I feared something like that would happen when I became aware you had locked the darker memories up inside yourself. I realize that you are trying to protect Logan's privacy," he spared a glance at Logan who looked grim but resigned. "But doing so is likely only going to cause them to fester and erupt unpredictably."

"I know," Marie said quietly.

"You knew this would happen?" Logan growled at them.

"It was a strong possibility," Charles corrected. "Memories of such a turbulent nature are often difficult to control, and it is far easier to do so when one is prepared instead of taken by surprise. Perhaps the time has come, Rogue, for you to ready yourself to deal with these darker memories instead of keeping them hidden away."

Logan looked at Marie. She seemed to be expecting Charles to say that.

"Yes, I know," she said again. "I was just hopin' to wait a while longer."

"I don't think that is a wise course of action, Rogue. Nor should you try to work through those particular memories on your own in case there is a repeat of tonight's incident."

Charles gave Logan a pointed look. _{I don't blame you Logan, but I know what happened tonight in the lab. She must be watched closely. Rogue was ready to take her life to escape the terror of reliving the experiments.}_

Logan growled softly but the fact that he hadn't immediately ordered Charles from his mind revealed the depth of his concern.

Charles continued, "Someone needs to be there, Rogue, to deal with any... difficulties... that might arise."

"I guess Jean told you about me stabbing Logan like I had claws?" Marie asked.

"Yes, she did, but she was more concerned that you were prepared to stab yourself," Charles said quietly. "To be safe, either Jean or I would be willing to-"

Logan cut him off. "I'll do it."

"That is a decision best left to Rogue," Charles said in his cultured, even voice.

"Darlin'?" Logan asked, turning to Marie.

"I think that it would be easiest with Logan," she said slowly. "No offense, but neither of ya'll can read my mind and I feel the most comfortable with Logan... But I'm not ready to do this now, maybe in a few days."

"That would be fine, Rogue, although I would not recommend you wait too much longer. Take a few days to recover and prepare. I do not imagine that it will be easy." Charles paused and looked toward the door. A second later it opened and Scott and Storm came in.

"It's begun?" Charles asked Scott.

"Yes, sooner than we expected," Scott answered shooting Logan a disapproving look out of habit. He'd come to care for Rogue like a sister and he didn't appreciate all the attention Logan lavished on her.

And he _really_ didn't like seeing them touching. What the fuck was that about? That just tripped alarm bells all over. Holding hands? Every time Logan's thumb rubbed over Rogue's knuckles, he felt his blood pressure climb.

Charles turned his attention back to Rogue and Logan. "It is settled, then?" Both Marie and Logan nodded. "Forgive me, but I am going to have to cut our discussion short. This matter requires immediate attention."

Marie and Logan got up to leave. "Good evening, Rogue." He paused. "Logan, would you be so kind as to remain behind? I believe we are going to require your particular gifts this evening as well," Charles said, smiling wryly.

Logan was torn between the prospect of a good fight and staying behind to watch over Marie. Sensing his indecision, Marie put a gloved hand on his arm. "I'm fine". He grunted at her. "I'm back to – you know – my baseline, average, every-day crazy, really. No lasting damage. I'm all good." Her impish smile returned. "Don't have too much fun kicking ass while you're gone."

Logan followed her to the door and grabbed her hand. He turned his body, putting himself between Marie and the others so all they could see was the broad expanse of his back. "You gonna be alright?" He asked very softly. Marie nodded silently. "I'll be back soon, darlin', and we'll work on that other stuff then, okay?" Logan stroked her palm with his thumb.

Marie smiled. "I'll be waiting. Be safe, Logan."

Hidden from view, Marie looked into his eyes and mouthed the words, 'I love you.' Logan nodded once and mouthed them back. He squeezed her hand and let her go. Marie left and he turned back around, schooling his features into his 'don't fuck with the Wolverine' face.

Three pairs of curious eyes were watching him, but only Scott was upset enough to say anything. "Just what the hell was that?"

Logan released his claws on one hand menacingly. "Stow it, One-Eye, before I-"

"Gentlemen! Please! We do have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment," Charles said firmly.

**~oOo~**

Later that night, Marie lay in bed unable to sleep. Scott, Jean, Logan and Charles had left in the Blackbird for parts unknown. Storm had stayed behind to watch over the students. The lingering images from Logan's memories were making it difficult to fall asleep. Marie shifted under the covers, sighing at how good the sheets felt against her bare skin. She was totally unprepared when the first memory broke free and assaulted her.

_Screaming and screaming until my throat is so raw no sound comes out and still they cut me._

Marie's mouth opened in a silent scream.

_So many black lines drawn over my body, surely they can't cut them all… Oh God, a scalpel. Not my face, not again. Please, no more..._

Her skin crawled as she felt her face being peeled back and the molten metal being poured in. She felt her stomach roll at the smell of her blood hissing into a cloud of putrid steam. The memory ended with Logan's mind screaming in denial and agony until everything went black. It was so vivid, Marie could feel the scalpel slicing through her flesh and she could smell the coppery scent of blood and the foul scent of burning bone as the metal began to coat her skull.

She covered her face, where the pain was the worst and gagged from the metallic scent of so much blood.

"Help me!"

She screamed but nobody could hear her. They were all gone on the mission and Storm was down in the command center. Even a telepathic call for help wouldn't do any good because the professor and Jean were gone too.

Marie knew she had to do something. Reliving Logan's torture, unprepared and out of control, would drive her mad. She'd had no time to get ready, no time to strengthen herself. She wanted to run, but her limbs were paralyzed with terror. She felt the icy stab of another memory surfacing. If she didn't regain some semblance of control the terror would kill her or drive her to kill herself to escape it.

She wanted to live.

She made her choice.

_I'm so sorry, Logan._

Marie mentally shoved that dark memory aside and reached for a different, but equally powerful, memory to hold the darker one at bay. Images flashed in her mind. Like the memories she'd experienced before, Marie saw what Logan saw and felt what he felt, only this time it wasn't pain she experienced, but pleasure. Intense pulsing waves of pleasure washed through her, scorching her skin.

His body sweated and strained above the woman's as she writhed against him, urging him on. It was dark and he couldn't see her face, but it didn't matter. He held her hands pinned above her head with his own. He was close. Under him, her rhythmic movements faltered as she splintered apart. He could feel her muscles clench hard around the base of his cock. Her nails dug into his forearms and her teeth found his neck, biting him hard. He groaned as the sting of her teeth pushed him over the edge. He shuddered, rocking his hips against hers savagely, growling his pleasure deep and low as his body pulsed with the force of his release.

_Please let it be enough._

Marie gasped sharply as she ran her hands over her aroused body. She understood now why there had been so many nameless, faceless women in his past. They offered solace, an escape from the painful memories, if only for a short while. She was jealous but didn't condemn him. How could she when she wished for the same escape? But Marie had no lover to lose herself in, no erotic memories of her own to draw on to stave off the swirl of darker images. All she had was Logan's memories of his lovers and his fantasies. She hoped, the way he always did, that the pleasure would be enough to keep the demons at bay another night.

Even that quick moment of reflection had allowed the icy tentacles of terror to creep back into her mind.

_Forgive me._

Marie retreated into herself, into another erotic memory. With his acute senses, his memories were so detailed, there was so much more sensory information that she was drowning in it. Taste. Touch. Sound. Scent. Her hands began to move sensuously over her body as she felt the pleasure rise once more.

His orgasm was so different from hers. The way he experienced physical pleasure was different. More focused. Wilder. Sharper. An inescapable drive to shove in deep, to thrust _. In-in-in._ To keep on pounding until the fire licked at his spine and the world faded to black around the edges as the heavy pressure in his groin became a brief, pulsing, liquid rush of ecstasy that kept the blackness back but never left him truly stated.

Her body convulsed again.

Another memory. A cheap motel room and the naked tangle of two women. The blonde had left her boots on. Marie could feel where they'd dug into the back of his thighs as he pounded away before he'd flipped them over and ordered her to ride him. The taste of the brunette was sweet and sultry on her tongue. He'd made her face the other girl and ride his mouth. The idea of them touching each other while he pleasured them both was crudely erotic. Her body responded but part of her recoiled. It was too salty a memory for someone who'd never even had a passionate kiss before. She shoved that one away, reaching for another.

A different brunette, darker. American Indian, maybe. A little cabin overlooking a deep canyon. Marie could taste beer in her mouth. They were on the couch in front of a fire. The woman was wearing a short, white nightgown. She straddled him, pulling off his red shirt and sinking down onto him with a gasp. The slick heat was indescribable. His hands were on her hips as he thrust up strongly under her, mouth open on her breasts and neck. Kissing. Sucking. Biting. That memory was different. Warmer. Softer. More intimate. His lovemaking was passionate but tender. It consumed her, sweeping her up along with the lover in his arms.

Marie felt the familiar tightening begin again and wrapped the memories around her tightly, giving herself over to him as surely as if it was her body under his strong hands.

**~oOo~**

Finally, the first pink fingers of dawn touched the sky.

_I beat the demons._

Her brain buzzed with quiet elation. Marie was exhausted both emotionally and physically. The memories of Logan's torture had finally stopped trying to surface. She no longer needed the pleasure to escape the pain. Her body was spent, the sheets wet with sweat and the skin between her thighs was embarrassingly slick. The scent clung to her fingers, to her body; her lips, her face, neck and breasts. Places she'd touched to echo the fantasy, because he wanted to taste that flavor on her skin, to smell it while he thrust into her, to watch her perform for him. Anything he'd wanted those women to do with him and for him. She'd done it all.

She flopped back against the pillow and let out a shaky breath. She felt different, changed somehow. Maybe this was how people felt after they had sex for the first time? Marie certainly didn't feel like a virgin anymore. Through his memories, she had experienced practically every kind of sex a person could have. Granted, it was from Logan's perspective, but she had still seen the images in her mind and her body had felt the sensations. Feeling his release, finding her own. Together but apart. A night of agony and ecstasy and guilt.

_Horrible mind-numbing guilt._

Marie covered herself lightly with the sheet and curled onto her left side. She wrapped her hand around his tags. _Forgive me, s_ he murmured over and over as exhaustion claimed her.

It was nearly noon when she awoke. She stretched and blushed, remembering some of the more erotic things she had learned about Logan last night; things he liked to do. Things he liked done to him. Things he wanted to do to _her_. He was a sensual, inventive lover with the few women who'd touched his heart. There were other women too. Ones whose faces he turned away as he pounded them into a cheap motel bed or against a wall, intent on his pleasure and the rush of power and control he felt at making them come on his thick cock. She felt guilty too, for invading his most intimate memories, even if she'd done it to keep from losing herself to the terrifying horror of his darker memories. The truth was that even though she'd done it to keep his demons from her mind, she had enjoyed it.

_There, I've admitted it. I enjoyed it. Not just the physical pleasure it brought me, and sweet smokin' Jesus, that part was good, but I loved learning those intimate things about him. I love that I know what turns him on, what he thinks about when he's alone, what he does to himself and just how good it feels. I know I shouldn't, and I feel guilty for admitting it, but I also love that I know what he likes when he's with a woman, what he likes her to do and what he likes to do._

Marie shuddered. She wanted to do every one of those things with him.

_And some things even he hasn't thought of._

Marie sighed and climbed from the bed. She had a splitting headache and she was feeling aches in places she never even knew she had. Her legs and thighs were sore and a little unsteady, like she'd run several miles. She stumbled to the shower and got in, turning up the temperature as hot as she could stand it. She let the heat sink into her, relaxing her, and wished it could wash away the guilt.

_This would be so much easier to deal with if I hadn't enjoyed it so much._

She felt the most guilt for reliving the memories where he was with other women. Not that she was jealous... much. She knew he had been with a lot of women in his past, but she'd never actually relived any of those encounters until last night. Somehow, it felt like a worse betrayal because it wasn't just his privacy she was invading. Instinctively, Marie knew that he wouldn't willingly share anything about those women from his past any more than he would willingly share anything about their relationship now with someone else. For that violation, Marie felt a deep sense of regret.

_I'm so sorry, Logan. For what it's worth, I didn't look at those memories much. Only when I was really, really afraid your demons would overwhelm me. Mostly it was just you._

Most of it had been watching him masturbate. In the camper, with his breath forming white puffs in the cold winter air. In the forest. In bed. In front of a lover. He liked the shower the best. She'd looked at some of his past sexual encounters, but even then she'd tried to protect him at least a little. She'd tried to use his fantasies, his intimate thoughts instead of actual memories of other people. It was a fine line, but she'd tried not to cross it unless she felt herself slipping too far into the darkness.

Marie stepped from the shower and wrapped herself in a fluffy yellow towel. She felt so different. It was more than her guilt and the pleasure she'd experienced. She felt changed inside. She looked into the foggy mirror. She didn't think she looked any different. It was almost a disappointment.

_How can I feel so different and still look the same? That's just... not right._

Marie dried her hair and put on some makeup, still trying to make sense of her feelings. She didn't know how she was going to be able to act normally around Logan. Not only had she experienced his memories of actual physical sex, but she'd also seen a pretty significant chunk of his fantasies. She shivered. Logan was an amazing lover, even inexperienced as she was, she could tell that. He liked giving pleasure. And taking it. He also possessed one hell of a vivid imagination.

Throughout the night, his imagination had in turns surprised her, aroused her, pleased her, and shocked her. Marie was vaguely aware that some of the fantasies she'd seen had been the kind that everyone has, but that they never share with another living soul. The horrible dark ones that you feel guilty about having, but yet can't seem to give up.

She knew.

She had them too.

Marie knew they were just fantasies though, so they didn't frighten her too much. She wasn't surprised that with all he'd been through that his darkest fantasies always revolved around control. He'd had so many choices taken from him in his life; it was little wonder that in those darkest fantasies he held all the power.

And he used it.

_Geez, Marie, get a move on. You're never going to get down to the cafeteria if you get all caught up in Logan's fantasies. I really, really need a cup of coffee. Maybe more than one. Scratch that. Definitely more than one._

At least one positive thing had come from all of this. Last night had been like releasing the pressure valve on a system that was about to overload. Marie knew it would be some time before those dark memories worked themselves to the surface again. At least she would be free from that terror for a while. It would give her more time to prepare herself to deal with them and more time for Logan to ready himself as well. She knew he had a hard time accepting that she would have to experience all those memories to truly be free from them.

It was going to cause problems, too. Logan and the Professor were going to wonder why she was no longer in immediate danger of the memories surfacing. Marie had no idea how to tell Logan what had happened.

_God, how do I tell someone that I invaded their most intimate thoughts and memories, that I not only saw everything, but that I felt what they felt, physically and emotionally, in those personal, private moments?_

Marie wasn't sure what Logan would take the most offense at; that she'd relived his intimate memories of other women or that she'd invaded his private fantasies. Either one was unforgivable, especially for such a fiercely private man. This coming on the heels of their recent exchange in the forest was going to seem like the worst kind of betrayal.

She knew he had never told anyone he loved them before, neither had she. For the first time he had finally trusted someone enough to share what was truly in his heart and made himself vulnerable and she had repaid him by intruding on his privacy in the worst way imaginable. That she had done it to save her own sanity didn't make her feel any better about it. She knew she had to tell him, soon, and she was afraid that he wouldn't be able to forgive her when she did.

Marie stood in front of her closet dressing herself absent-mindedly, still lost in her thoughts. She grabbed her black jeans and put them on over a black thong. She pulled on her socks and her leather boots and added a black leather belt. Fiddling with her bra, she grabbed a white t-shirt and pulled it on. It was fitted and cropped, exposing an inch or two of her toned stomach. She hadn't worn it before, but for some reason it just seemed like a good day for it today. She slid her hands into the black leather gloves that Logan had given her for graduation and she wrapped her sheer black scarf around her neck. She gave herself a once over in the mirror before heading out the door.

_Not too bad._

Now she was glad she looked the same as she always did. She wanted to avoid anyone asking any awkward questions that she didn't want to answer. What she wasn't aware of was that subconsciously she had dressed to attract Logan. On the most basic level her mind and body knew exactly what appealed to him. It recognized him as her mate and did everything it could to make itself attractive to him.

It wasn't so much the clothes as it was the confidence with which she wore them as well as a new awareness of her body and the power it had to affect men, or rather one man in particular.

Lost in her thoughts, and worried someone would find out what had happened last night, Marie didn't notice any of it. She had absolutely no idea what was about to happen once Logan saw her…


	14. Truth

Marie walked into the cafeteria and was surprised to see Logan talking with Scott and Jean. All of them were still in their uniforms. They must have just gotten back. They looked tired and hungry, but unharmed. She breathed a huge sigh of relief, her eyes lingering on him from across the space.

_Mmmm… that man sure does justice to that leather._

Logan caught Marie's scent and looked up. She smiled at him and went to sit at their table. Apparently getting coffee and a warm meal had been higher up on the list of priorities than changing out of their uniforms. Marie didn't mind at all. That uniform fit him like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination and after last night Marie didn't have to imagine all that hard to know exactly what filled Logan's uniform.

_Get it together, Marie. He's going to know something's up if he comes over here and sees you blushing like an idiot - and the cafeteria is definitely not the place to have this conversation._

Logan finished talking with Scott and Jean and made his way over to Marie. There was something different about her this morning. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe he was more tired than he thought. The mission had been exhausting. He really needed some coffee, some food, and some sleep in that order. He dropped wearily into the chair across from her.

"Hey, darlin'. What kinda name is Rogue?"

"What kind of name is Wolverine?" The familiar greeting warmed them both.

Marie smiled softly at him. "Let me get you some coffee, sugar. You look beat," she said as she got up and headed to the coffee pot.

_Sugar? Where did that come from? And since when does Marie get my coffee for me?_

He watched her walk away, his eye repeatedly drawn to that little ribbon of creamy skin showing above the waistband of her jeans. Damn. She moved differently today. She was all grace and leashed sexuality. There wasn't one bit of adolescent awkwardness in her movements at all. She was all woman; from the slow sway of her hips to the elegant way she held herself.

_Sweet Christ. Where the hell did she learn to move like that?_

She was moving like a woman who knew exactly how and when to move to drive a man wild. It was a subtle change, but he noticed it. Then again, he always noticed everything about Marie. She moved like a woman who had spent a very satisfying night in bed with a man. He should know, he'd seen that particular look enough times in his life, but there was absolutely no reason for Marie to be looking like that.

_Yet._

_Doesn't anyone else see it?_

Apparently they didn't because he was the only one staring at her with his mouth hanging open. Abruptly, he snapped it shut before the rest of the cafeteria caught him looking at her like _that_.

_Real slick, bub._

He watched as she took off her gloves and tucked them in her back pocket before she poured two cups of coffee. She added cream to hers like she always did but then she did something unusual. She grabbed the honey and squeezed some into each cup. She must have gotten some on her finger because she brought the offending digit to her mouth and sucked it slowly.

She felt the weight of his stare and she looked up to meet his eyes. She smiled and picked up the mugs, making her way back to their table. She put the mug down in front of him and slid into her chair.

"There you go, sugar," Marie drawled slowly as she sipped her coffee, apparently unaware she was acting any differently than normal. She didn't smell any different than she normally did, but something had definitely shifted.

He couldn't figure it out. He wasn't sure if he was misinterpreting something innocent or if she was truly trying to turn him on because, God help him, between the way she moved, the way she looked, and the way she'd sucked that honey off her finger, his uniform was on the way to getting pretty damn uncomfortable. He tried not to think about the way she had practically purred when she called him sugar.

"Sugar?" He asked finally.

"What?" Marie asked confused.

"You called me 'sugar'," he paused, "Twice."

_Not that I don't love hearin' that - 'specially comin' out of your sweet mouth directed at me - 'cause that sexy little drawl gets me every time - but since when did you start callin' people 'sugar'?_

"Oh, sorry. I wasn't even aware I said it. My mom used to say that. It's a southern thing I guess." She laughed lightly. "Does it bother you?"

Logan was confused. Either he was getting his signals crossed or Marie had seemingly grown up overnight. There was absolutely nothing remotely kid-like about her.

"I don't mind at all, darlin'," he said, grinning at her.

_Did you have to sound so happy about it, bub? You do have a rep as a badass that is going to be hard to live up to if you keep actin' like a lovesick pansy._

He couldn't seem to help himself. Everything about her body language was different today. She wasn't aware of it, but she was treating him like a lover would. He had enough experience to know the signs. She sat closer than usual. She touched his arm more often and let her fingers linger just a bit too long for it to be a completely casual touch. And then there was the way she was looking at him, head tilted down subtly looking up at him through her lashes like a shy lover's glance. He didn't even want to get into her purring 'sugar' at him.

_Just what the hell is goin' on here?_

He decided not to say anything about it here, now. He scrubbed a hand tiredly over his face. Maybe he was hallucinating. He stifled a groan. Maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to see. He took a big sip of his coffee and closed his eyes, appreciating the sweet taste of honey in his normally bitter black coffee. Nobody knew about his sweet tooth.

He wondered what prompted her to add honey to both their cups today. If they had been lovers, he would have said she did it because she knew he would enjoy kissing her later to catch the lingering taste of honey on her tongue. But they weren't lovers yet so he had no idea why she'd done it. Something was definitely going on, but he'd be damned if he was going to ask about it here in the cafeteria in front of half the school.

Logan was thankful their normal routine didn't involve a lot of talking over coffee. As confused as he was, he didn't think his half of the conversation would have made much sense and his body wasn't listening to his brain at the moment. It was just responding to all the subconscious signals she was sending it. He'd been up almost two days straight. Maybe this whole thing would make more sense after some food and a few hours of sleep.

Marie watched Logan finish off the last of his coffee. She'd almost given herself away with that whole honey thing. Briefly an image from one of his fantasies flashed in her mind. Him, a woman, some warm sticky honey drizzled on and licked off… all sweaty and sticky and-

_Dammit._

She was going to have to be more careful.

He was a bit more quiet than normal today, but she attributed that to the long hours he put in on the last mission rather than on any change in her behavior. He didn't seem to notice anything different about her. Well, he hadn't said anything about it anyway. He was looking at her a bit oddly though, so maybe he did sense something after all. Who knew?

Marie stifled a laugh.

_I can't believe I called him sugar. It just slipped out._

The look on his face had been priceless. Almost all women that she knew growing up had used that endearment from time to time so that had been easy to explain away, but deep down she knew she had used it simply because in some elemental way, last night had shifted the way she saw him, and changed the way she responded to him.

Marie watched him. She could see he was exhausted. She knew he needed food and sleep. The guilt and need to confess what she'd done was eating at her, but she could wait until he was rested and had a clear head before they talked. God knew he was going to need it.

**~oOo~**

Hours passed. The waiting was killing her. She'd been too nervous to eat dinner. Would he never wake up? She knew she was being unfair. The man deserved some sleep after that last grinding mission, but this endless waiting was making her crazy. Finally on one of her many trips past his door to see if he was awake and moving around, she heard his shower running. She was glad her waiting was almost over but she dreaded having this conversation.

Unfortunately, she still had some time to kill. Logan took the longest showers of any guy she'd ever met. Marie laughed, but it quickly turned into a groan as images of a wet Logan in the shower flitted across her mind.

_Get a grip, Marie. Jeez._

Marie waited another agonizing half hour before going to knock on Logan's door. She heard him rumble a gruff, "Come in," and she slipped into his chair smothering a laugh. He was still in the bathroom.

_That man really does love his showers._

"Evenin', darlin'," he said as he came from the bathroom feeding his belt through the loops on his jeans. "No greetin'?"

In her nervousness over the coming conversation, she'd forgotten their standard greeting. "Logan, we need to talk," she blurted out.

_Great, nothin' good ever follows those words._

He wondered what had Marie wound so tightly. He could smell her nervousness. He finished buckling his belt, grabbed a beer from the mini fridge, and sat down on the bed. He supposed that talking would probably be a good idea. He wanted to know just what the hell had happened earlier today and why her body language was so different.

"Is everythin' okay? Is this 'bout the memories?" He paused. "You scared 'bout Chuck wantin' you to do this so soon?"

"Yes and no."

That was one of the things about Marie that Logan always found intriguing. She could never explain something simply, in a linear way. She talked in circles, not to confuse him, that's just the way she was. Maybe it was because she had to get her thoughts through all the other people in her head, first. He wasn't sure.

"Well," he prompted.

"About what the Professor wants me – us – to do... Well, we don't have to do that so soon. Those dark memories aren't trying to surface quite so abruptly anymore." She went on before he could ask her about it. "But that's not what I wanted to talk about tonight, sugar."

_Damn, there it is again. Sugar. The way she says that makes me shiver._

"What's goin' on with you, darlin'? You... You're..." He searched for the word. "I dunno... you're... different."

_But not in a bad way. In a really good way that makes me want you even more than I did before - if that's even possible._

That surprised her.

_Wait one second. He can tell I'm different?_

"Different how?" She wanted to know.

"Little things. The way you move, your body language when you're close to me, the way you touch me, callin' me 'sugar'. Not that I mind." He smiled at her. "I like it."

_I like it way too much and your birthday is still weeks away._

"I always touch you."

"Not like this."

She thought about that for a minute.

"You like me calling you 'sugar' or you like the changes?"

"Both, although to be honest the changes are a little confusin'." Sometimes he really wished Marie could tell something from beginning to end without skipping around. There was something there she hadn't told him, but he waited. She would tell him when she was ready.

"What's confusing about it?" she asked.

He searched her eyes. She honestly didn't know.

"Because you're treatin' me like a lover, darlin'. Like we've been together... intimately," he said softly.

"I am?" It wasn't surprising though, considering what had happened last night. She did feel like he was her lover. She knew his body and mind nearly as well as she knew her own.

"Yeah, baby, you are." And it was playing havoc with his control. As simply as it could, her body was telling his that she knew him intimately, that she wanted him, and his body was responding. Painfully. "You wanna tell me why?" he asked gently.

He thought she was going to say something about the fact that she was growing up, readying herself for the next step in their relationship, or maybe that she'd had some kind of erotic dream about him. He was totally unprepared for her answer.

She took a steadying breath. She owed it to him to look him in the eye and tell him the truth, every terrible bit of it.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered before bringing her eyes up to meet his. Her tone made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "I looked."

"Whaddaya you mean you looked?" He didn't like the sound of that.

_Wait. What? She couldn't possibly mean..._

"The memories... the other ones... the intimate ones. I- I looked."

_Fuck. That is what she means._

Silence.

Marie had been expecting him to erupt, yell at her or order her from the room. Something. His brooding silence was somehow infinitely worse. Finally his breath hissed through his teeth and in a low menacing growl he spoke.

"What exactly did you look at, kid?"

His control was close to snapping. Anger burned through his body like acid, eating him from the inside out.

_How could she?_

He was too furious to be embarrassed right now, but on some level he knew that he would be eventually. In tandem with the rage was fear. Fear that now that she had seen his most primal thoughts, she would be afraid of him; sickened or disgusted by what she'd seen. He was afraid she might not want him anymore, that deep down he was too animalistic for her, for anyone.

W _hy the fuck did she hafta do that?_

He also felt a hot prick of shame. Shame that she would know so many times he never even knew their names. It wasn't something he was proud of. They were nothing but a soft willing body, a way to keep the demons away another night.

The animal inside was clawing to get out. He swallowed a bellow of rage at what she had done and forced himself to ignore the red haze of anger choking him so he could listen to her answer. Maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought. He doubted it. Judging from her body language and his response to it, on some level she knew him as intimately as he knew himself.

That right there suggested it was far more than a mere look.

"What exactly did you see?" He growled again when she didn't answer fast enough.

To her credit she winced, but didn't look away from his intense stare. "I saw... " she hesitated.

"Christ! Just spit it out. They're my goddamn memories after all."

She flushed red.

"I saw... things you did, felt what you felt when you... " her voice trailed off at the look of fury on his face.

He had forgotten she felt what he felt when she relived his memories. No wonder her mind and body were reacting so differently to him now. Guilt ate at him. Anger, too. She'd taken that experience from him. He wanted to be the one giving her that.

_My memories takin' away her innocence. She shouldnta experienced those things, not like that._

There had been no love there. No tenderness. Nothing but base carnal desire. That's not what he wanted for her.

He was still livid, but with this new bit of information he began to feel lust intertwining thickly with the anger. There was such a fine line between passion and anger. If he had any hope at all of keeping his hands off her, he needed to focus on the anger, not the lust. Her next words made that all but impossible.

"I looked at your memories, what things you like - intimate things. Things you do to yourself when you're alone and things you do when you're with a woman."

He growled at that. The anger was back full force. It was bad enough that she'd invaded his privacy, but it really pissed him off that she'd looked at his memories of other women. Some things should be just for him. Should live only within him.

 _Fuck_.

Marie continued on ignoring his growl. "I also looked at the things you think about that turn you on... your fantasies. Even the dark ones."

_He deserves to know the truth, know how deeply I violated his privacy._

She welcomed his anger. She deserved it.

_God, is nothin' sacred? It's bad enough she experienced my memories but, God, my thoughts and fantasies too?_

It was more than anger. It was hurt. He knew she had those things inside her, but she'd always been so careful to give him what measure of privacy she could. He felt deeply violated.

"For fuck's sake! Dontcha know how personal that shit is?" He didn't give her a chance to answer. "How would you feel if I did that to you?" He was seething, embracing the anger because if he let the lust take over he would pull her over to the bed and take her hard and fast, promise or not. He knew she wanted it, even now her body was responding to the animal rising in him. He could smell it on her. He shoved that thought away violently.

She stared at him, mute. Surprised by the vitriolic outpouring.

"How would you like it if I crawled through your most private thoughts? Looked at what you do to yourself behind closed doors and felt what you felt when your hands touched your body, huh? And if that's not bad enough, how would you like me to invade your thoughts and see what kinda things you think about to get yourself off? See what makes you so goddamn wet you're pantin' for it when you've got that little hand workin' between your legs?"

Her eyes widened.

He knew he was being vulgar, but he didn't care. He was angry and hurt and aroused. He just couldn't believe she would do this. "So what the fuck do you have to say for yourself, darlin'?" he snarled.

"Nothing," she said quietly, looking away from him.

She felt so guilty. She deserved every bit of his anger. She wasn't going to make any excuses for what she'd done. Besides, the fact she'd done it to save her mind from the terror of his demons didn't make her feel any better about it. And telling him that now, in this state of mind, was only going to make it worse.

"Christ, Marie! All you have to say for yourself is 'nothin'?" I shared my heart with you, told you things I've never told anyone and you go and pull this shit? I _trusted_ you." Logan uncurled one fist and ran a hand over his face.

"I'm so sorry, Logan. I never meant to hurt you." She was crying silently now, large wet tears slipped down her cheeks. "I just... " she stopped abruptly.

_God, I almost told him. He's going to feel even worse if he knows I did it to save my sanity, to keep from hurting myself to escape the terror and pain of his other memories._

"You didn't mean to hurt me?" He laughed sharply. It was a bitter, ugly sound. "What the fuck did you think was gonna happen? You of all people know how hard it is for me to share anythin' about myself with another person. Do you have any idea how it feels for someone like me to have his most private thoughts rifled through on a whim?"

"Logan, I'm sorry... "

He cut her off. "Yeah, I know you're 'sorry'. Too bad sorry isn't gonna cut it this time, darlin'."

"Logan, please... "

"You wanna know what hurts the most? I woulda shared all that shit with you eventually, Marie. All you had to do was ask me. I _wanted_ to share that stuff with you. I wanted to be the one to make you feel those things - ME - not some second-rate drunken memory of me fuckin' some sleazy cage bunny."

The hot tide of anger was receding a little. Without it, there was nothing to keep the passion in check. Passion and anger had always been a volatile combination, especially for him, and she still wanted him, he could smell it. He had to get out of here while he still could. He grabbed his jacket and his pack without another word. He turned his back to her and picked up his keys.

"You running again?" She asked in a tear-choked voice.

"As fast and as far as I can get," he said, willing the burning anger to come back to ease the lust gripping him. He wanted to hurt her like he'd been hurt.

He stopped at the door and turned around. "You know, if it wasn't so sad it would almost be funny. Stronger men have tried and failed, darlin'. Who would have guessed it would be a slip of a girl who brought the Wolverine to his knees?" He was half way between wanting to hit her and wanting to fuck her until she screamed. Too close. He was too close to the edge. "Jesus. I can't even look at you."

He saw her recoil in pain from his verbal attack. For a second it made him feel good to know he could hurt her as deeply as she had hurt him. The joy was fleeting. He hated seeing her in pain, and it was even worse knowing he'd caused it. As angry as he was, and as irrational as it sounded, he still wanted to comfort her but he knew if he put his hands on her he'd be lost.

He also wasn't too sure if he could do that without hurting her. He was so angry but he'd hate himself even more if he raped her here on the floor of his room. She couldn't possibly want what was seething in him right now, even if she was ready for it.

 _He hates me._ Inside she was dying. _I deserve all this and more._

Slowly she reached up and pulled his tags from around her neck. "You'll be wanting these back, then?" She held them out to him.

_Fuck no. I want 'em around your neck so every asshole who looks at you knows you belong to me. That you're mine._

He didn't know why, but in spite of himself he reached out and took them from her. Maybe it was the sick, lingering feeling in the pit of his stomach, left by such a deep violation. Maybe he did want to hurt her for what she'd done to him. The animal inside him was out for blood now that the lust had been denied.

Marie nodded sadly. _I should have known it would come to this._

"Are you going to come back?" she asked with her heart in her throat as she watched him settle the tags back around his own neck.

Giving up a chance at a relationship with him was one thing, but she'd never meant to drive him from the only home he'd known in more than fifteen years.

"Maybe someday," he growled as he slammed the door behind him.

Marie crossed the room and crawled into Logan's bed, surrounding herself in his scent. She felt naked without his tags and bereft without his love. She closed her eyes and allowed the tears to fall. She cried in silent shuddering sobs for everything that had happened and for everything that would never be.

Outside an engine rumbled to life, but far too quickly it grew so faint the only sound she could her was her own quiet tears.


	15. Consequences

Today was her birthday. She didn't feel like celebrating. Today should have been a joyful day, the start of her romantic relationship with Logan. Instead she felt like an empty husk. She hadn't heard one word from him since he'd left after she'd confessed to looking at his intimate thoughts. She didn't blame him. She knew she had hurt him deeply.

The night Logan left, Marie had opened her mind to all of his dark memories that she'd locked away inside herself. The terror and pain had been beyond imagination, beyond decency, beyond endurance, but she had welcomed it. She'd wanted to punish herself for the hurt she'd caused him. The memories had been too much for her. She'd lost herself in the labyrinth of anguish and horror of the experiments he'd endured. Her mind had screamed at the unfairness, at the torment, and for release.

That was how Charles had found her; locked in Logan's room, lost in a storm of unimaginable terror. Her fists clenched so tightly her nails had pierced her palms and bled into the sheet she had clutched around herself. In contrast to her silent verbal screams, the horror in her mental screams staggered him. Charles had spoken softly to her and guided her through the worst of the storm. Several times he had almost been caught in it himself, but together they had weathered it. The magnitude of the barbarism that Logan had endured was deeply shocking. Almost beyond comprehension.

Marie had let it wash over her, breaking against her time and time again. More than she thought she could bear. Charles had been the rock she anchored herself to. He'd helped her keep herself in this world, so she wouldn't lose herself forever in the depths of those dark memories.

When it was over, Charles had watched over her as she slept. Even though it had almost killed her, she had kept the storm inside herself to protect Logan's privacy. She had only allowed Charles to provide support, nothing more. Charles wondered if Logan knew the extremes to which she would go, and had gone, to protect him.

The experience had changed her.

She was quieter now and harder. More introspective. Stronger. Much, much stronger. She smiled less and listened more. She took long walks and spent a lot of time thinking and reflecting on what she'd seen and learned.

She had a new respect for Logan. He had endured that experience alone and he had come through it. Not without his scars, but he hadn't allowed it to crush who he was inside. She was so grateful for the Wolverine, for the primal part of his nature that had pulled him through the worst of it; the part that had stood and taken all of the horrors visited upon him while the man had abandoned him, gone somewhere inside his own mind to escape the pain.

She also had a newfound respect for the Professor's gentle strength. Without him she never would have made it through the storm with her mind intact. She knew he had wanted her to share the burden of the memories, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She had hurt Logan enough already. That final betrayal would have been too much for her to bear.

Marie felt different. Her eyes that had seemed so old before now seemed timeless. There was a stillness about her that radiated strength. Nobody knew quite what to make of it. Even Charles found himself entranced by her at times. Marie reveled in the simple joys of life as only a person who had beaten death could. She exuded a quiet confidence and an inner beauty that was nothing less than spellbinding.

She endured Logan's absence and her resulting loneliness with a quiet grace that even Charles wondered about. The last of her childhood innocence was gone, purged in a fiery blaze of pain. Charles felt some sadness to see it stripped from her in such a painful way, but he felt a deep sense of pride in the woman who had emerged.

They had celebrated her birthday with a small gathering at the school. Marie still didn't feel comfortable in crowds. She had shared cake and ice cream with her closest friends. It had been a pleasant evening but also bittersweet. While she had enjoyed the party and the thoughtful gifts she had received, she longed for Logan to return. Tonight was supposed to have been their night. He was her mate and she understood that now in a way she never could before. Without him she felt like half a person, and she knew she would never truly be whole without him at her side.

It was late, almost midnight. The party was long over and Marie was back in her room. She sat by the window, pressing her hand against the cool glass as she watched the moon rise through the trees. Like it had a hundred times since he left, her hand crept up to grab the tags, only to realize, once again, they were no longer around her neck. It still felt strange to be without them, without him.

Marie remembered when he had given them to her. "I'll be back for this," he'd said to her as he had pressed them into her palm and closed her fingers over them, but even then she had known what he meant. What he had been unable to say at the time. "I'll be back for you."

Marie smiled at the memory. She remembered when he had come back after being away for that long year. She'd heard his bike and had run out to greet him with a rib-crushing hug he had returned whole-heartedly. After everything had settled down and they'd had a chance to talk, she had tried to give him his tags back. Instead, he had just smiled and put them back around her neck without a single word.

She knew, now, it was his way of marking her, a visual reminder to anyone who looked at her that they belonged to each other, even then. It wasn't just to mark her. It marked him in a way too. They were his most precious possession, the only tangible thing he had from a past he couldn't remember. He had relinquished them into her care and they had become her most precious possession. It had been like giving a part of herself away when she'd given them back to him.

Marie sighed. She had too much on her mind to sleep. It happened all too frequently since he'd left. She pulled on her jacket and gloves and slipped quietly out the door. She smiled as she entered the woods. She used to be afraid to be alone here at night. Not anymore. Logan's memories had shown her the true meaning of fear. Since that night, very little scared her now. Alone in the woods she felt at peace. Somehow the still forest soothed her.

As she usually did, Marie wound up at the place where she and Logan had held each other and finally spoken of their love for the first time. Marie found herself at this place, 'their' place, often these days. She ran a gloved hand over the tree Logan had stabbed with his claws that fateful evening. It would always bear the scars, but it was healing.

Marie touched her chest lightly where his claws had stabbed her so long ago. She too had healed. Strangely enough, thinking about that night didn't bother her. Make no mistake, there had been pain when his claws had sunk deeply into her body, but oddly enough there had been a kind of pleasure too. Not a physical pleasure, but a strange sense of satisfaction that a part of him had been inside of her. Her body had once cradled his.

There had been no accusation, no anger, on her face as she had looked back at him from the points of his claws, only a quiet resignation and the knowledge that she would get to touch him once before she died. She hadn't been thinking of saving herself when she had reached out her hand to touch his cheek. She'd only wanted her last moments to be filled with him. Her survival had been an accident. She'd tried to tell them so, but they didn't understand. Instead of fading away with thoughts of Logan filling her mind, she'd grown stronger as his gift had rushed into her. In the end, she'd pulled away to save _him_.

She had never spoken of it to anyone. It was a sweet pleasure forged from splintering pain. After all this time, she could still feel his knuckles barely brushing her breasts, his claws inside of her, and the rough rasp of his cheek under her fingertips. It wasn't that she was morbid or that she'd liked the pain. She'd only embraced it for those fleeting moments he had been inside her body. The knowledge that it was all she would ever have from him made the memory that much sweeter and that much more painful.

Lost in the past, Marie watched the moonlight make strange patterns on the forest floor. She wondered if her life would always be like this. All of her most cherished memories contained threads of pain. Even this place where they had exchanged their first words of love had seen words of anger and hurt. Marie closed her eyes and breathed deeply of the rich, fecund smells of the forest. The musk of decaying leaves. The earthy scent of the loam beneath her. The wind was sharp and fresh.

He moved silently through the trees, tracking her to 'their' place. When he hadn't found her in her room, he knew she would be here. He caught her scent on the night breeze. She was close. He watched her for a time, keeping to the shadows. She seemed different, somehow. More still. She exuded a quiet strength and confidence that she hadn't possessed when he left.

It gave him pause.

He hadn't been able to stay away. He wasn't ready to forgive her. Hell, he didn't even know if he was ready to _talk_ to her, but he'd done a lot of thinking while he was gone. Something just kept niggling at his brain. Now that the heat of anger had passed and he could think clearly, he knew there had to have been a reason for what she'd done, and he would damn well have it from her before the night was over.

Marie let the stillness of the forest seep into her, adding its solemn strength to her own. She realized now that she had been wrong. She should have told him why she had delved into his intimate memories. Withholding that would just be another thing she had to atone for. At least he had been spared the responsibility of helping her as she relived those dark memories. She had learned so much about him, about his strengths and weaknesses, about who he was and who he'd been. Maybe even some things he wasn't even aware he knew. Like-

"Marie." His voice was raspy from disuse.

Her eyes snapped open as she watched in awe as he materialized like a wraith from the shadows. For such a quiet man, he had a big presence. It was all raw power and unfettered sexuality, and right now he looked incredibly dangerous. Marie shivered under his intent gaze.

"Logan," she breathed, barely above a whisper.

She was drawn to him, aware of his anger, but unable to resist him. She crossed the distance between them and took his large, strong hand in her small, gloved one. He allowed the touch, but Marie could sense the animal lurking just under the surface.

Her fearlessness never ceased to amaze him. Nobody ever approached him when he was like this. _Ever._ Except her. She not only came closer, she reached out and touched him. He could smell her nervousness and hear the rapid beating of her heart, yet she stood her ground and actually had the gall to touch him. He let out a warning growl that would have sent any other person scurrying into the darkness, but she stayed still, gently stroking his hand.

_Fuck. Why can't she be like all the others? Why doesn't she react to me the way everyone else always does? I'm the fuckin' Wolverine. I've killed people and felt nothin'. Worse, I've killed people and liked it. She should hate me, but she doesn't. Not her. She tears though all those walls I've built to keep everyone out - to keep myself safe from ever bein' hurt again. She just waltzes in and twists my guts up into knots. How the fuck does she do that? What gives her that power over me? And why the fuck did she hafta go and look at all that shit in her head. Fuckin' WHY?_

"Why."

It was the question that had kept him awake every night since he'd left. It prodded him, tormenting him with possibilities, never letting him rest. It just kept at him, demanding an answer, driving him crazy with uncertainty.

"I had to." She said simply, no longer willing to hide anything from him. She had nothing left to lose. "It was either that or let the other memories take me," she finally admitted. She continued on, ignoring the low rumble emanating from his throat. "There was no other way. Everyone was gone. Nobody heard me when I yelled for help. It was the only way I could keep your demons away."

Her admission lay heavily between them. Logan felt the bright sear of anger begin to fade as remorse filled him. "Christ, Marie. Why did you let me think...? God, the way I treated you... Things I said..." he was horrified at her revelation.

_God, she did it to keep her sanity, to keep my demons from devourin' her mind._

He crushed her to his chest wrapping his arms around her tightly, pressing his lips to her hair. She was so precious to him. Nobody had ever been willing to sacrifice themselves for him, to bear the brunt of the pain to protect him from it. It was humbling. He should have known, but it was difficult to imagine anyone caring for him in such a way. It had blinded him to the truth. She murmured a tear-choked apology against his chest while he whispered his against her hair. They held each other tightly in the moonlight for a long time, letting the pain and hurt bleed from them until both of them were finally at peace.

Logan pulled back from her and removed the tags from around his neck. "C'mere, darlin'," he said gruffly as he refastened the tags around her slender neck and adjusted them so they fit snugly between her breasts. They still carried the warmth of his big body. It made her shiver.

"Logan, you don't have to do this."

"Shhh, Marie. I want 'em there, markin' you as mine. They belong there." His voice grew softer. "I won't take them from you again. Ever."

He leaned his back against the scarred tree and pulled her into his arms, stroking her back slowly with his hands in a soothing motion. "Baby, there's somethin' I needta know." He felt Marie nod against his chest. "That stuff you saw…." He tightened up in her arms. "Hmph."

"Logan?"

"It didn't mess you up too bad?"

"No. I'm fine, sugar. Just fine. I promise. I'm better now. Stronger."

Relief left him weak for a moment.

"Good. That's good."

"I don't even have the nightmares anymore. Or at least I haven't had once since. Really, I'm fine now. Different but… good. Really good. Balanced."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I'm real glad, kid." He was quiet a moment. "What about the other stuff…. the sex stuff and the fantasies…"

"Uh..." _Mmm..._

"Are you... ya know, okay there?"

"Yes," she said quietly, without hesitation.

_I'm not so sure 'bout that, darlin'. I know how my fantasies are. Raw. Primal. Too much for an untouched girl like you._

"You're not afraid of me now?" he asked, uncertain of her answer.

"No." She shivered. "You have no idea what your thoughts and fantasies do to me."

He turned them so her back was pressed against a tree. "Tell me." His voice was husky. It wasn't a request. The hands that had been lightly stroking her back were now gripping her arms tightly.

"I- I can't." She couldn't tell him. She didn't have the words. "Let me show you. Just this once." She had to show him, make him _see_ , make him understand she had never feared any of the intimate things she'd seen.

"Marie?"

_God, she can't mean to..._

"Just this once," she whispered as she opened herself to her memories of that night, letting them flood her mind. "Just the ones about me. Just those..."

He nodded roughly.

It was different this time. Instead of seeing them one at a time, her mind was bombarded with dozens of erotic images at once. Her legs buckled and he pinned her against the tree with his body weight to keep her from falling. The scent of her arousal was immediate and intense. His body tightened painfully in response. He breathed in deeply and a long low growl rumbled deep in his chest.

She gasped and dug her gloved fingers into his neck but she never once looked away from his dark, hooded eyes. She wanted him to see she wasn't afraid of him or anything she'd seen. This wasn't about them, about pleasuring each other. It was only about showing him what his thoughts did to her. To prove to him the only way she could, the only way he'd understand, that nothing in his head had been too much for her. She rubbed herself against him purposefully.

_Oh, God. It's too much. I can't watch this and keep from touchin' her._

His hands slid up her arms and down the valley between her breasts. They lingered possessively at her waist before slowly climbing back up to cover her full breasts. He could feel her nipples tighten against his palms. She was so sensual, so responsive to his touch. It made him feel powerful and yet at the same time awed that she would want this... with someone like him. He brushed the straining peaks with his thumbs, glorying in the little whimper she made deep in her throat.

_Christ, she feels so good. Too good._

A growl rumbled in his chest and he unconsciously pushed his hips against her, wanting more. She was trembling. He ignored that voice in his head yelling at him to stop, that she was too young, too innocent to jump into _this_. He'd wanted to start sweetly, softly. Not this… this headlong carnal rush. He lifted her legs from the ground and she wrapped them around his waist. Her heel dug into the back of his thigh. He leaned into her, smelling her moist heat through the layers of denim separating them. Christ. He could _feel_ it. The warmth of her crotch seeped into his groin where they were pressed so tightly together. It nearly undid him. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, fighting for control as the heavy throbbing between his legs grew insistent.

He couldn't believe it was happening this way. Too much, too fast, and he was unable to stop it. He didn't want to stop it. All he could do was marvel at the way she felt in his arms and pressed against his body. They fit together perfectly. He had waited so long to be able to hold her this way.

_Mine. She's mine. So beautiful._

Her hands were fluttering at the small of his powerful back and the look on her face was one of pure wanting.

_It's just for me. I'm the only one that's gonna see her like this. The only one. Ever._

The animal was rising inside of him, wanting to claim her. He suppressed a possessive growl and the urge to bite her, to mark her so that everyone would know she was his. His.

Logan watched her eyes, reveling in the fact that she took so much pleasure in his fantasies. Marie bit her lip and threw back her head with a moan as a particularly erotic image flashed in her mind.

_Which one, baby?_

It was obvious she had her favorites. He saw the flash of familiarity in her gaze and then her eyes would close for a brief instant as her face contorted into a beautiful grimace before meeting his eyes once again. Her face was transcendent in pleasure. The same look, hot and wanting, over and over again. He'd never seen anything more erotic than the sight of Marie getting off on his fantasies of her.

_God, my thoughts doin' this to her._

She tightened her legs around him and rubbed herself shamelessly against his straining erection. White-hot pleasure burned through him as she worked herself on him. She wasn't shy now. She had a real good rhythm going.

_Jesus, baby. Just like that. JUST like that._

He groaned hotly against her throat. The heavy ache between his legs intensified and he growled as he watched her move rhythmically against him.

He dug his fingers into her hips, holding her where he wanted, and thrust forward roughly. His dark hungry eyes moved up to watch her lush red mouth as it opened in a silent shout.

Her eyes were glazing over. She was looking at him, but no longer really seeing him. The hand at the small of his back was insistent now, pulling him closer as she writhed against him. The other gripped his neck tightly, pulling and kneading. She was making those sexy little noises in her throat and arching into his touch. His hands were on her hips showing her what he wanted, guiding her movements as they rocked together with savage intensity. Her hands entwined in his hair, pulling sharply to force his eyes to hers.

"Your thoughts... " she whispered urgently as her legs clenched tighter around him. "All this - because of you... " she looked deeply into his eyes and flew apart in his arms as he thrust roughly against her.

_Christ, it's too much. I'm gonna-_

"Logan!"

The sound of his name on her lips unexpectedly hurled him over the edge with her. He sank his teeth hard into her shoulder. Still dizzy from her own release, Marie felt him go utterly still and then she felt the sharp sting of his teeth as he shuddered and came hard, straining against her trembling body.

_Oh, God, Marie._

He held her to him for a long moment, letting her feel his big body shaking against hers before he gently lowered her legs back to the ground. He pulled her tightly against him, his heart beating wildly inside his chest. They were both breathing in great gulps of the cool night air. The scent of their combined release surrounded them, making him light headed. His grip tightened on her.

"Mine," he growled fiercely.

Slowly reason returned to his pleasure fogged brain. He'd never lost control like that, not in any of the years he could remember. But hearing her gasp his name, low and needy as he watched her come for him, all because of his thoughts in her head... that was just too much.

_Sent me right over the fuckin' edge._

It had been a furiously intimate melding of mind and body. Logan was still reeling from the intensity of that unexpected mind-blowing release. They hadn't even touched and it had been better than anything he'd ever felt with anyone else, simply because it had been with _her_.

She was blushing now, her eyes downcast. He stroked her hair gently.

"Don't hide from me, pretty girl. I wanna see your face. That was real beautiful, darlin'."

He couldn't stop touching her now. They stood in the moonlight with her head on his chest a long time. Not talking. Just soaking in the intimacy; little touches. Soft murmurs. The closeness of two bodies recovering from unexpected pleasure.

Finally, they parted and he untucked his shirttails to cover the telltale damp patch at the front of his jeans. Things had gotten way out of control. That shouldn't have happened but he couldn't summon even a shred of regret or remorse. She was his. It was his right to touch her, and be touched by her. He had managed to keep his word, but only just. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he had returned sooner.

"You okay, baby?" He asked softly.

"Ummm... so much better than ok, sugar," she purred against his chest.

He couldn't help but smile at the satisfaction in her voice, satisfaction that he had put there. He was a bastard for having let this happen this way, but at the moment he was a smug satisfied bastard. He was amazed that his thoughts could have that kind of effect on her. He breathed in their combined scent and smiled pulling her closer again.

"I love ya, kid." He was surprised at how easily that sentiment rolled off his tongue.

"I love you too," she said, a bit shyly now that the heat of the moment had eased. She felt a hot flush creep up her cheeks. He'd just watched her come apart in his arms, grinding shamelessly on his thick cock, and they had never even _kissed_.

"Having second thoughts?" he asked carefully.

"No, never that." She hugged him and planted a quick kiss on his chest. "I've wanted that for a long time." The flush in her cheeks grew darker. "Since Laughlin City."

"Me too, but it's not going to happen again for a while, darlin'. I wanna take my time with you. Wanna savor it a little."

"What about what I want?"

"I know whatcha want, darlin'. I want it too, but I'm gonna go nice and easy. I wanna make it real good for us. We both deserve that." He kissed her palm. "Because once I have ya like that, once I've been inside you, I can't go back. I wanna go a little slow now while I can, because I won't be able to later. Not for a long time. Maybe ever."

"Oh, God…"

Logan chuckled as he felt her melt against him.

"Y'Like that?"

"God, yes."

He linked his fingers with her gloved ones. "Trust me?"

"With all my heart."

"I'm gonna make it so good for us, baby."

"You already have, sugar. My whole body feels like Jello. Really happy, floaty Jello."

He laughed quietly and his eyes smiled at her in the darkness.

They walked hand in hand slowly back toward the school. Logan stopped at the edge of the trees. "Marie?"

"Yeah?" She said quietly as she turned to look at him.

"Happy birthday, darlin'."

His thumb stroked her gloved palm as he slowly lowered his mouth to hers and gently brushed her lips with a feathery kiss. The contact was so light and so brief that her skin didn't have a chance to open the connection before he was gone. It was sweet and tender and left them both breathless and wanting more.

That would come soon enough.

* * *


	16. Vices

The late November wind blew harshly outside, scattering the few remaining leaves into the night. The bitter wind suited Marie's mood perfectly.

_Pathetic, Marie. Really pathetic._

She'd relived what happened in the forest against the tree and their first real kiss over and over in her mind these last few weeks. She wanted more. They both did. Why did everything have to be so unfair? Marie wondered how come she had to be so different, what she had done to deserve the hell of living inside an untouchable body.

If the whole skin thing hadn't been bad enough, this week she'd gotten a long email from Jubilee who was now away at college, like most of her friends. The letter was full of descriptions of dorm life and juicy details about her new boyfriend. Her touchable, kissable boyfriend.

Marie had opted for correspondence courses because her 'gift' and a college full of wild co-eds did not a good combination make. Marie ignored the little voice inside her that told her everyone had problems. It wasn't just her. She'd crammed that voice into a deep dark place and slammed the door on it.

_Yep, a full on pity party in Marie's room tonight._

_No normal skin, no normal touching, no normal college, no normal life._

Even this thing she had with Logan wasn't going the way she thought it would. Not that she had expected him to fall into bed with her the second she turned eighteen. He had made that perfectly clear that night in the forest, but she hadn't expected his somewhat standoffish behavior either. She supposed a great deal of that was due to her intimate look into his memories and the subsequent incident in the woods, but she thought they had worked that out for the most part.

It had been three weeks since her birthday and he had barely touched her beyond kissing since that night in the woods. Well, there had been a little more than kissing a few times, and she supposed, to be fair, two of those three weeks he had been away on a mission with Storm and Scott, but it still sucked. He had been back three days now. They still had coffee in the morning and ate dinner together most nights, but they hadn't had even one of their usual nighttime talks between her online classes and his post-mission briefings. She missed their talks. She missed _him_.

They still hadn't really talked about the night she'd relived all of his darker memories but she suspected he knew more than he let on about it. Everyone could tell she was different now. They didn't know why but Logan would. She was sure of it.

Marie knelt down and reached into the closet, grabbing the bottle of tequila she'd stashed there a long time ago. She'd never had tequila before, but a while back when she had been working through some of the 'Logan' in her head she'd had this odd compulsion for cigars and tequila. She'd snuck a bottle from the professor's private stash and hidden it away.

_Hey, I'm not called Rogue for nothing._

The desire for the tequila and cigars had faded as she worked through the 'Logan' in her head. Until tonight that is. She'd tried the cigars once, a few months after Liberty Island when the 'Logan' in her head was still very strong. They had made her as sick as a dog, but she'd kept the tequila.

_Thank God for that._

Not only had she kept it, but it had moved to her new room with no one the wiser. Logan's memories of tequila were a bit fuzzy in her mind. That didn't stop her, though.

_Feeling fuzzy might not be so bad right about now._

She snickered to herself. Still sitting on the floor, she opened the bottle and lifted it to her lips. She didn't like the sharp smell of it, but the 'Logan' inside her sniffed in appreciation.

_At least I filched the 'good stuff'._

She wasn't too sure where that last thought had come from. She didn't know a damn thing about good tequila, but someone in her head did, and he was practically growling in anticipation. He was usually a beer and whiskey man. The memories she had of Logan and tequila usually started out a bit wild and ended sort of hazy. But they definitely felt good.

_Might as well make it a double then, seeing as how there are two of us here appreciating it._

Her mood was belligerent and melancholy as she raised the bottle and took a long drink. It was a good thing she had been sitting on the floor. Sputtering, she rested the bottle back on the ground and tried to breathe through her choked throat. Her eyes were watering.

"Gah!"

_People really like doing this?_

"That's not the way you do that, darlin'," Logan said, chuckling from the doorway. He was leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest. There was an amused expression on his face. "Especially not with the good stuff."

He knew they still needed to talk, but now was not the time, at least not for that particular conversation. He knew what had happened. While he was gone she'd worked through the dark memories, and knowing was enough, for now anyway. She'd talk to him about it when she was ready.

"The 'good stuff', huh? I knew it was you." She muttered under her breath.

"If you're hell bent on doing this, at least learn to do it right."

"And who's gonna teach me, sugar? You?" Marie snorted. "Is that before or after you give me the whole 'let's wait because you're too young' speech again?"

_Ouch. That stings, but I suppose she might have a point there_.

"Mmph."

She knew she was being snippy, but she didn't care. Self-pity sure could come in handy at times. "I haven't forgotten you owe me a lesson, you know."

As if he could forget his offer to teach her how to drink tequila the _right_ way?

"I haven't forgotten either, kid."

He let his eyes slide over her, noting the tight black jeans and fitted black top. He noticed she was wearing her wrist length black leather gloves he'd given her too. She knew he had a thing for tight and black. The leather was just a bonus. His girl was definitely in a dangerous mood tonight, but since when had the Wolverine let a little danger stop him?

He ignored her little barb. "So you comin' or what, darlin'? 'Cause I ain't standin' here all night." He held out his gloved hand. Whenever he was with her he always had a pair. He rarely wore them, but they were always there, tucked into one of his many pockets.

_Always prepared, that's my Logan._

He had jokingly told her once they were for 'Marie emergencies'. Idly, she wondered if he considered tonight a 'Marie emergency'. She laughed but she didn't ask and she accepted the hand up.

"Baby?" he paused, looking at her pointedly.

She sent him her best 'go to hell' look.

"The bottle," he prompted when she didn't move. He caught her look of chagrin as she reached down for the bottle giving him a nice view of her backside as she bent over.

_Damn, she's got a great ass._ He chuckled. _Slow down, bub. Tequila first, Marie's ass later. Much, much later._

"Where are we going?" she asked when he went down the hall in the opposite direction from his room.

"Kitchen," he grunted.

"You're gonna give me a drinking lesson in the kitchen?" She teased. "Don't you want to pick a place a bit less... public?" She shot him an innocent look that was totally at odds with the innuendo in her voice. He didn't buy it for a minute.

"Patience is a virtue, darlin'."

"Says the man ready to teach me about his favorite vice," she laughed as they made their way to the kitchen.

He reached into the decorative bowl on the kitchen counter and fished out a few limes. "I never said that one was my favorite," he teased, giving her a wicked leer as he grabbed the saltshaker and a knife. "Okay, we're good to go."

"Where to now?" Marie asked playfully.

"Some place a little less public, baby. That is whatcha had in mind, isn't it?" He smirked.

"You bet, sugar. Lead on."

Logan opened the door to his room, followed Marie in, and deposited the pilfered goods on his desk. He took the bottle from her and set it down on the desk as well. Marie was a little breathless. He wasn't sure if it was because of the swallow of tequila she'd had earlier or because they were both aware she was now eighteen and alone in a room with him... and a bed.

"Marie," he said softly. "Tonight's just about a drinkin' lesson, darlin', nothin' more just yet. I don't wanna fuck up our first time together 'cause we ain't thinkin' too clearly." Besides, with her skin and his control issues, drinking and fooling around too much could end badly for both of them. Really, really badly.

_Who would believe it? Me, ME, the Wolverine, bein' Mr. Sensitive. Thank God, Marie keeps her mouth shut about our private shit._

It was quite a shock to discover he had such a tender side. Sure, he'd had his fair share of women over the years, but that had just been sex. This was the first time he could remember being in love. It was new and scary, but it was new and scary for her too and he figured that somehow they'd manage.

_Back to Earth, bub. Marie's talkin' to you._

"Sure, sugar. I can wait. I'm just feeling a little... " She didn't want to spoil the mood by saying 'depressed'. "... A little crazy. I just want to have some fun tonight."

"I can definitely do somethin' about that, kid."

Logan smiled at her, reached out a gloved hand and caught the edge of her scarf, pulling her to him.

"What're you doing?"

"Just havin' a little fun, darlin'," he murmured as he pulled her into his embrace and nuzzled her neck through the protective curtain of her hair.

"Mmmm... I thought you said just the lesson and nothing else…"

"Heh. Rules are made to be broken, baby." What he'd really meant was no sex. But that left a hell of a lot of ground and he kind of liked winding her up. It made her eyes sparkle.

He let his hands slide down her back to grip the ass he had been admiring earlier.

"Damn, you feel good, Marie, and you smell even better. I wanna taste you."

"Yes..."

She slid her hands up his chest until they rested under the collar of his flannel shirt. He pulled back to look at her face. She was so beautiful. _Mine._ The animal in him felt like pounding his chest and howling into the night. Logan slowly drew up the bottom edge of her scarf. It was black and so sheer it was like holding a smoky wisp of fog. He covered the lower part of her face with the corner of the scarf, lowered his head and kissed her through the protective barrier. She trembled and ran one small hand up into his hair. The other found his neck, stroking and urging him on. Closer. More.

_Open for me baby. C'mon. That's it._

He opened her mouth with his and tasted her though the filmy scarf. She tasted so good; like Marie, and tequila, and home. His tongue stroked hers, teaching her his rhythm. His right hand held the scarf in place and his left slid around her to press into the small of her back, urging her soft curves even closer to his solid form. She made a soft sound in her throat and instinctively rubbed herself against him.

He growled in response and deepened the kiss, moving his hungry mouth on hers insistently, demanding deeper entry. She gave it and shivered at the feel of his tongue. Her small gloved hands stroked the nape of his neck and she moaned into his mouth. Logan swallowed the soft sound and pushed his muscled thigh between her legs, pulling her tight against him. She rubbed against him tentatively and then more boldly as she found her rhythm. Her hips rolled. Not wildly. Not out of control. Slowly, with passion and wonder.

"That's it, baby. That's it. Ride me. Ah, Christ, that's good."

"Mmmm…." She really liked it when he said things like that; really liked it when he talked while they were intimate. Marie understood he didn't encourage her too much verbally just yet because he was trying to give her time, but she hoped he'd start doing that more as things progressed.

He groaned as each slow sensual undulation of her hips brought her thigh into contact with his erection. He wanted to make her come but he wasn't sure he could keep his own passion leashed if he did.

Logan knew he needed to stop this before things got out of control, before _he_ got out of control. Marie didn't know what she was doing. He did. Logan broke the kiss and smiled down at her, stilling her hips with his large hands.

"Stop," he said softly. "Rules, kid. Remember?"

Her lips were rosy and slightly swollen from the passionate kisses they'd just shared and her eyes were dilated and unfocused as she nodded. He could feel sweat under his arms and above his lip. She wasn't the only one affected.

_That's definitely a look I wanna see Marie wearin' more often._

"You ready for that lesson now, darlin'?"

"Ummmm... " Marie smiled against his chest, a bit dazed. That did great things for his ego. He didn't think he'd ever kissed anyone senseless before.

_Careful, bub, you're not so steady yourself._

That was certainly true. One kiss from her, just one, and he was as hard as he'd ever been in his life. She smelled so damned good. He shifted his weight trying to ease the pressure a bit.

"Marie?" She snuggled closer to him, wrapping her arms around him even tighter and pressed a kiss to his chest just over his heart.

"I'm with you, sugar. Go ahead and start that lesson any time."

"You gonna let me go, first?" he asked, amusement warming his husky voice.

"Only if I have to."

_You do if you want me to be able to think straight, darlin'. 'Cause all I can think about now is how good you taste and how close we are to my bed._

"Yup." He laughed. "Go on, kid." He gave her nudge toward the desk. "Go and sit on the desk."

Reluctantly she let him go and went over and sat on the desk, swinging her legs restlessly. She watched as Logan rummaged around in his dresser and came back with two shot glasses. Marie couldn't hold back her laughter.

"What?"

"It's just funny, you always travel so light." She thought back to the 'cozy' camper and grinned. "No frills, no fuss, just the basics."

He smiled a wolfishly at her. "Yup, just the bare necessities, darlin'."

"Since when are two shot glasses the 'bare necessities'?"

"Since I found out where that bottle of Chuck's tequila disappeared to. I was just waitin' 'till you were ready." He laughed again.

"I'm more than ready now, sugar," she purred. The innuendo was obvious and intentional.

Logan hand clenched.

_God, that little firebrand knows what that accent does to me._

Marie's accent was always stronger when she was mad or upset or flirting with him. Her soft southern drawl just did something to him, something that felt really, really good.

His teeth flashed at her as he cut the limes into wedges. That got a giggle too.

"What?"

"A knife?" He was notorious for using the claws for everything.

"Heh. Damned limes make 'em sting like a bitch when they go back in." He shook his head. "Hurts worse than bein' shot."

Her smile faded. "I hate that you know that."

"Hey, none of that now. Nothin' heavy tonight, honey. Just the good stuff."

That earned him a grin. "It's your show, sunshine."

His eyebrow went up at that. "Ok, darlin', take off your gloves."

She looked like she was going to refuse, but she pulled them off at his urging. "You're the boss."

"Just the way I like it," he said, shooting her a naughty smile and removing one of his gloves. Marie laughed quietly.

_Isn't that the truth? He sure does like it that way... and I'd know too. I've seen him in my head enjoying that role on more than one occasion._

Marie shivered in anticipation as Logan moved closer and picked up the bottle of tequila from where it was resting beside her thigh.

He poured two shots and put the bottle back down.

She was sitting on the desk, watching with wide curious eyes. Logan moved to stand in front of her, in the space between her parted knees. He wanted her aware of him. It did the most amazing thing to her scent. He smiled as she widened her legs slightly in silent invitation, allowing him to move closer. He stroked her thigh sensually and lifted his hand to run his gloved thumb over her full lower lip before reaching for the first shot he'd poured.

"You first." Marie said, remembering the way her eyes had watered and her throat had burned the last time.

"Fair enough." He picked up her scarf again and brought the end up over her head letting it fall in front of her face like a veil.

"I feel a little silly sitting here like this," she said, fidgeting a bit.

"Trust me," Logan said, watching her nod from behind the makeshift 'veil'. He picked up a lime wedge and put the end of it in her teeth through the scarf. "Hang on to that for me, darlin'." He picked up the saltshaker in his gloved hand and turned his bare hand palm up in front of his face.

"First you lick," he said, as he proceeded to lick the inside of his wrist, never taking his eyes from hers. Normally, he would have let the woman do the licking, but in this case, since he didn't want to be unconscious in the medlab for a few days, he thought it would be better if he did it this way, and it was kind of erotic to be licking his own skin in front of her like this.

"Mmm…"

God, she loved watching him touch himself intimately, even if it was only his mouth on his wrist.

"Salt." He sprinkled the salt on the resulting damn patch of skin and licked it off sensually, still watching her eyes watch him. He broke out into a sweat.

Her eyes went wide, but she said nothing.

"Tequila." Fuck, he needed this drink. He lifted the shot and tossed it down. He closed his eyes as he felt it burn a slow path down his throat.

"Oh…"

"And now the best part, lime." He leaned in and kissed her, pulling the lime into his mouth and biting it, allowing her to share in its tart flavor as he continued the kiss. He lifted his mouth from hers and spit out the lime rind before swooped back in for a five alarm stunner that didn't let up until she was breathless.

"God…"

He chuffed quietly and pulled her up, switching places with her so that he was sitting on the desk and she was standing between his open knees. He was a bit dizzy, but not because of the alcohol. He pulled the scarf off her head and smiled at her as he unwound it from her neck and slowly dragged it away. She shivered as it slithered across her nape. In the wake of his kiss, her skin felt electric. Charged. Energy hummed under it, crackling between them. He could feel her warmth linger on the silk under his fingers.

"Your turn, darlin'," he said as he pulled the scarf over his own head to protect the skin on his face from her touch. He stuck a lime wedge in his teeth and winked at her, not at all uneasy under the scarf as he waited for the touch of her mouth.

Marie picked up the saltshaker. He was pleased to note her hand was not all that steady.

"First you lick," she said seductively as she brought the inside of her left wrist to her mouth. She imagined it was him she was licking, and he knew it judging from the heat in his eyes and the growl coming from under the scarf.

"Salt, baby." The words were husky and low. God, her skin would be salty if he licked her now; the small of her back, the underside of her breast, the crease of her thigh. He blew out a slow breath.

She salted her wrist and watched his eyes as she returned her tongue to the salty milky-white skin.

_Jesus._

"Tequila." He growled from around the lime wedge.

Marie picked it up and tossed it back, enjoying the feeling of the fiery warmth it left in its wake. It went down smoothly this time.

"Lime," she whispered, and then she kissed him, stealing the lime from his mouth with her small even teeth.

He felt her shudder as she bit into it and tasted it on her as she kissed him through the scarf. It was by far one of the most erotic experience he'd ever had, and he'd experienced a lot in his jaded past. Marie sighed into his mouth and pulled away, plucking the lime rind from her full lips.

They repeated the procedure twice more, both of them enjoying another shot and more tart, heady kisses. Logan insisted on two extra for him on account of the healing. He wanted to keep pace with her at least a little, keep his buzz running ahead of the healing, and he was all for more kisses. They were getting deeper and more passionate each time. Last time she'd clutched at his arms and dug her fingers into him as she panted into his mouth.

"Your turn again, sugar," Marie said, pulling the scarf from his head and pouring two more shots. Still sitting on the desk, he finished his shot and kissed her until her knees were weak.

"Last one, baby," he said as he pulled the scarf from her. He didn't want her drunk, just pleasantly buzzed. Marie grabbed the salt shaker and turned her palm up. She was bringing it to her mouth when Logan's gloved hand reached out and caught her bare one.

"Trust me," he whispered and he brought her hand to his mouth.

"Careful, sugar."

"Trust me," he murmured again as he stroked his tongue along the bare skin on the inside of her wrist, on purpose licking the same place she had earlier so he could taste her mouth on her skin. The touch as been so fleeting her gift hadn't gotten much from him. Marie felt the connection open and she'd felt the rush for a fraction of a second as thoughts of love and desire entered her mind along with a few incredibly erotic images of her bent over this desk, receiving his every wild thrust; her back arched, his fist in her hair. Marie gasped, but she didn't pull her hand away.

"Salt, darlin'," he reminded her a bit unsteadily. "Tequila." He prompted when she was finished. He pulled the scarf back over his head and reached for a lime, tucking it between his teeth.

"Lime," she said as she kissed him again through the scarf, biting the lime briefly before letting it fall. She kissed him deeply, nipping at his mouth and he felt the animal rise to her call. He could smell how much she wanted him, how wet and ready she was, and even though he knew he needed to stop he just couldn't keep from touching her again.

He felt her tremble as he slid his hands down her back to cup her supple curves once more. He dug his fingers into her ass and pulled her against his erection, letting her feel what she did to him, relishing the feel of her heart beating erratically against his chest. God, that was getting to him.

The Wolverine wanted his say, too.

He spun her slowly, pushing her forward with his big body until her hands were braced on the desk and he was grinding languidly against her ass, his big hands on her full, ripe breasts and his mouth open on her shoulders, giving her sharp nipping kisses on her nape and down her sides. She was beginning to moan lightly now and push herself back at him. He growled in return, low and deep. They were very close to the point of no return.

_It would be so easy to just let it happen._

He knew she wouldn't say no, but he wanted more from her than just a quick hard fuck. Much more. He wanted everything. He'd meant what he said earlier. He didn't want to fuck up their first time together because they'd been drinking. He had a feeling he was going to have a hard enough time staying in control as it was.

_Besides, I want her to remember every fuckin' thing I'm gonna do to her._

He pulled away from her, breathing hard. "Marie, darlin', we gotta stop." He was painfully close to losing all control and pulling her into bed with him. Her body shuddered.

Her body turned in his arms and she nodded breathlessly. "Eighteen and your rules, I remember."

She moved away from him and sat down in his chair. The world was spinning pleasantly and she was sure it has just as much to do with Logan's mouth as it did with the tequila.

"Are all your vices this much fun, sugar?" she asked, still flushed from his kisses.

He chuckled. "Nah, kid. Some of 'em are even better."

* * *

 


	17. Confrontation

Marie met Logan in the hall outside her room the following morning.

"Morning, sugar. Sleep well?" she drawled slowly, giving him a shy sexy smile.

_Yep, damn well between the tequila and your kisses._

"Sure did, darlin'," he said as he pulled her into his arms and planted a lingering kiss on her lips and then her neck through the protective barrier of her scarf.

It hadn't taken long for their old traditional greeting to transition into these slow, lazy kisses. The old tradition was nice, but they both liked the new one far better.

He growled playfully and bit her lightly before letting her go. She was still laughing and he was still holding her gloved hand when they reached the cafeteria. It had taken a while to get there because he'd pulled her into an empty classroom, pushed her up against the door and kissed her hard until the world spun. He simply couldn't keep his hands and mouth off of her. By the time they reached the cafeteria, Marie was breathless and flushed and Logan was nothing short of smug.

"You okay to do this now?" he asked gruffly, but the tender look on his face betrayed his true feelings.

Understanding shone in her eyes. "I've been ready a long time, Logan. We both have. It's everyone else who needed time." She squeezed his hand and smiled a roguish grin at him.

_That's the damn truth_. _She's so beautiful and this is gonna be so much fun. I can't wait to see the look on One-Eye's face._

Logan always took an obscene amount of pleasure in anything that annoyed Scott.

There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes that Marie recognized instantly.

"Logan," she chided. "This is going to be hard enough for them without you gloating."

"Can't help it, kid," he said with a wink as they entered the cafeteria holding hands. Logan's face was typically stoic. Marie's was full of joy. Conversation stopped as all eyes turned to them. Logan met everyone's gaze with a flinty stare.

_That's right. Get a good look. She's mine._

The Wolverine flashed his teeth. It was less a smile and more a warning, daring anyone to dispute his right to be with Marie.

It was an interesting reception, but not totally unexpected. Jubilee smirked, shouted "FINALLY!" and blew them a kiss. Kitty squeaked and hugged a frowning Bobby. A flutter went through the room. Those who knew Logan only by reputation threw worried glances at Marie. There were some unkind looks, but there were plenty of happy smiles too. It was no secret how Marie felt about Logan. Charles nodded knowingly and gave them one of his wry smiles.

They slowly made their way to the table where the other X-Men were eating breakfast. Logan had released her hand. In general he wasn't much one for public gestures. He liked his private life kept that way, but he wasn't about to hide it, either. If he wanted to touch her, he would. He moved closer to her, resting his palm lightly, but possessively, at the small of her back. Marie moved into it gently. It was a small gesture, but one with a very clear message. The Wolverine's mate had come of age and he had wasted no time in claiming her.

"Good morning, y'all," Marie said softly, but her glowing smile and lingering flush was unmistakable.

"Mornin'," Logan rumbled in his usual gruff way, but he couldn't quite keep the satisfied smug grin from his face.

Storm was the first to respond. She wasn't surprised. The soft-spoken weather goddess missed nothing. She inclined her head and said only, "Be kind to each other."

Both Marie and Logan could feel the tension emanating from Scott. He was rigid, his jaw clenching rhythmically, and his hands were balled into fists. Marie was sure there would have been a scene were it not for Jean's hand resting soothingly on Scott's arm. Jean's thoughts entered Marie's mind.

_{I'm happy for you Rogue. I'm sure Scott will be too, in time.}_ Jean was pleased she managed to keep the censure from her mental voice. Rogue couldn't possibly be ready for this, but she knew now wasn't the time to say anything. Both Rogue and Logan were primed to defend their right to be together. Rogue might have escaped the censure, but Logan wasn't so lucky.

Jean turned her mental voice on Logan. _{I hope you know what you're doing, Logan... She is very young.}_

Logan fixed his stare on Jean, meeting her disapproving gaze with cool regard. Her words came again in his mind.

_{Tread lightly, Logan. Scott dotes on her like the little sister he always wanted.}_

Logan almost sent her a scathing mental retort but he paused. He was happy. He had Marie. He could afford to be magnanimous. _{I know you all care about her Jeannie, but I love her and I'm not gonna hurt her.}_ There, that was as nice as he could be, all things considered.

Jean's look of displeasure softened slightly. Logan confessing love wasn't something she'd expected to hear from him. It made her wonder what other things about him she might have misjudged. Her brow furrowed.

"Logan." Scott finally acknowledged through his clenched jaw. It was clear from his disapproving tone that this was far from over, but ever the tactician; he knew when to pick his battles. He too saw that Logan and Marie were prepared to fight to defend their relationship right now.

_What the hell does he think he's doing with her? She's just a kid and he's an asshole._ If Jean's hand hadn't been gently restraining him there was a serious possibility he might have blasted Logan into next week. _I still might. We are definitely going to 'talk' as soon as I can get that son of a bitch alone._

"Scott." Logan said back equally as terse, responding to the challenge in Scott's voice. He scowled at him menacingly.

_Anytime, anywhere, bub._

Scott didn't have to be a telepath to know what Logan was thinking. He nodded jerkily accepting the unspoken agreement and excused himself.

_Asshole,_ Scott thought as he stalked off.

_Dick._ Logan growled at his retreating back.

They understood each other perfectly. They would settle this later. Alone.

Marie and Logan got their coffee and sat down at their usual table. Marie spoke first.

"That went over well," she said sarcastically.

"It coulda been worse," was his only comment. They were silent for a while, content to sip their coffee and touch each other's hands in silence. Logan watched appreciatively as Marie went and got another cup of coffee. He smiled smugly when he saw her add a generous amount of honey to it. She looked over at him and smiled seductively. He growled in anticipation. It looked like he'd get to taste that honey on her after all.

**~oOo~**

That weekend, Marie and Logan decided to hole themselves up in Logan's room for the evening. It had been an eventful week between the well wishers, the naysayers, and Scott, who was just plain out for blood. A feral grin touched Logan's mouth as he thought of the coming confrontation with Scott. The smile faded and he let out a quiet snarl as he thought about all the shit that Scott was probably going to say to him. Hell, it was probably going to be the same stuff he'd told himself since he met her. That she deserved someone with a past. Someone who could have waited longer for her. That she was too young and he was too old and jaded for an innocent like her.

_I am not a cradle robbin' asshole._ He looked over at Marie who was at the other end of his bed, propped up against the headboard. _Shit, I am... but I love her and she loves me and she IS old enough now. God, I love the way she looks on my bed. Like she belongs there._

To be perfectly fair, in New York, Marie had been 'legal' at seventeen. Besides that, with both him and Magneto in her head she could be collecting Social Security several times over. But she was still an innocent. Sure, she might have him and every sexually depraved, immoral thing he'd ever done in her head, but knowing and _doing_ were two entirely different things. He wasn't exactly sure how he'd managed to keep his hands off of her for so long, but he didn't have to anymore, much to his delight and Scott's eternal displeasure.

_Scott._

Logan released the claws on one hand and studied them, imagining them popping great big holes in the pompous, self-righteous windbag.

_What a dick._ He slid his claws back in.

"Logan," Marie chided playfully from her end of the bed. "He's my friend. You can't gut him for being worried about me, sugar."

"He can worry about you all he wants, darlin', but it's a whole different thing for him to come between me and my mate." That admission hung heavily in the air between them for a long moment. They both knew it was true. He was her mate and she was his, but it was the first time either of them had spoken that sentiment out loud.

Marie smiled shyly at him. It just sounded so... right. Her smiled changed to something more seductive, an unspoken promise of the pleasures that awaited him when they were mates in every sense of the word. Logan could almost feel that look slide tangibly over his body. He sucked in a sharp breath.

_That girl's a danger._

One of 'those' looks from her got his blood up faster than the most practiced women he'd ever been with and she knew it.

_God, she hasta know it._

She crawled over to him where he was leaning against the wall at the foot of the bed and she kissed his whiskered cheek, where it was safe, before settling into his side. He put an arm around her and pulled her close. He was content. It was a new experience for him. He'd never been content with a woman before. Interested? Yes. Attracted? Certainly. Aroused? Definitely. But content? No. Not until her.

He loved holding her. She felt so good pressed against him. He loved everything about her, the way she looked and felt and smelled. The sound of her laugh... the way she sassed him back... _Careful, bub. You're headin' into pansy territory._

Marie's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Can I see them?" she asked quietly, reaching for his free hand with her gloved one.

_She wants to see my claws? Shit. Nobody's ever asked to see 'em before, but then again nobody's ever asked if it hurt when they come out either._

He'd been caught so off guard by her question that day in his truck the truth had just slipped out before he could stop it.

_Every time._

Somehow, her quiet question had coaxed the truth from him like no amount of torture could have.

Yes, it hurt. Big badass Wolverine hurt. He couldn't believe he had admitted that to her. There was pain and then there was _hurt_. Pain was what you felt when you took a hit in the ring. Pain faded. Hurt was something different... and it hurt when the claws came out. But it was an old hurt and one that he was accustomed to.

He remembered back to the first time she'd seen his claws in that bar in Laughlin City.

_Like I really needed them to fend off that wuss and his pathetic excuse for a knife?_

He'd shown them on purpose and let her have a good long look, trying to put some fear into her so she'd keep her distance from him and all his lecherous thoughts. He wasn't blind. He saw how she'd been eyeing him at the bar.

_Fat lot of good flashin' my claws did._

That had only made her more determined. She'd seen his claws and had climbed right into his trailer anyway. He smiled, recalling the scene on the road where she'd yelled at his retreating back that she'd saved his life.

_I love that temper of hers, sassin' me from day one, even though she knew what I was and had seen my claws in action._

He loved that he couldn't back her down. She respected his strength, but she didn't fear him. They were equals in every sense of the word. Maybe on some level they had recognized each other as mates even then.

"Logan?" Her voice questioned lightly.

"Sorry, darlin'. I was just thinkin'." He looked down at her. "I'll show 'em to you if you want... but be careful, huh?" He was as apprehensive about his claws as she was about her skin, and just as fearful of rejection. They were the physical manifestation of the animal inside of him. The part he felt was unlovable.

With his left arm around her pulling her closer, he raised his right hand in front of them, palm out, and released his claws, taking care to make sure the blades faced away from them. He took a deep breath and held it, unsure of her response.

"Can I touch them?" She asked quietly.

"Marie." He ground out gruffly. It was both a warning and a plea.

"I'll be careful," she promised softly.

"If you wanna," he said tightly. Nobody had ever wanted to touch them before. The thought of her touching them excited and aroused him, but made him nervous too. Letting her see them had been hard enough. Allowing her to touch them was akin to bearing his soul.

Marie reached out a gloved hand and touched his knuckles lightly where the claws came out. He jerked under her gentle caress. She pulled her hand back and he moved to retract them.

"Wait," she whispered, bringing her hand to her mouth and grabbing the tip of her glove in her teeth. She pulled her hand free of the glove and reached toward his knuckles again.

"Marie." Another warning, tinged with a touch of desperation this time.

_She can't mean to... Oh, God. She does._

He wanted her to be careful, but he wanted her touch even more. His heart beat wildly in his chest, afraid she would touch them, but more afraid she wouldn't.

"Shhh, Logan," she soothed as she ran her bare fingertips down the back of one of his claws. The metal was sleek, utterly flawless, and very warm from being inside his body. "I don't remember them being so warm," she murmured as she ran her fingers over his claws, being careful to avoid the razor sharp edges. At least there was a small part of him she could touch with her bare skin.

"God, Marie," he choked out. It felt so good. Intimate. Erotic.

"I love all of you, sugar. Especially these," she said simply, drawing her hand back and looking up into his eyes.

He retracted them and closed his eyes, shuddering lightly before opening them again to look down at her. In one smooth movement he rolled her beneath him on the bed, resting halfway on his side and halfway on top of her. He dropped his forehead to her breastbone.

"Jesus, Marie." He was trembling, overcome with emotion. He'd never been so humbled by a single gesture in his life. He felt her relax and pull him closer. He couldn't make his throat work to tell her what that had meant to him.

"I know," she whispered softly. Sometimes this thing they shared went beyond what words could express. They were two halves of the same whole, two hearts beating in tandem. Mates.

Marie shuddered gently with anticipation the instant she sensed the shift in Logan's mood. He issued a long low growl that vibrated his chest against her. _Lord, I love it when he growls. I wonder if he has any idea what it does it me?_

Logan smiled wickedly against her chest when he felt her shudder. He knew exactly what his growling did to women. It took a certain kind of man to pull off a growl, and he was that kind of man, no doubt about it. He growled again and pressed his mouth to her chest, biting and sucking at the generous curves through her thin shirt. Her nipples peaked under his tongue and he smiled in satisfaction as she rose up under him, pressing her body against his hungry mouth.

He reached for the bandana he'd started carrying since Marie had turned eighteen. He carried it for the express purpose of creating a barrier between them so he could kiss her, and he didn't care who knew it. Summers could blow a gasket over it. Logan could care less. When it came to Marie, he did what he damn well wanted, regardless what anyone else thought about it. The only opinion that mattered to him was hers.

The sound of Marie's moan drew his thoughts back to the woman under him. He slid on top of her fully and came to rest in the cradle of her hips, giving her the pressure he knew she wanted. He tangled his fingers in her hair and nuzzled her neck through the bandana all the while keeping his weight firmly against her hips where she wanted it most. She whimpered softly and moved her hips against him instinctively.

"None of that, darlin'," he said gently as he stilled her hips with his hand. "Slow, remember? Right now I just wanna kiss ya," he said as his hand kneaded her hip.

_And when you do that I can't think 'bout anythin' but fuckin' you 'till you shout my name like you did that night in the forest._

"But, sugar... "

Logan dropped the bandana over her mouth and cut off her protest with a heated kiss. Not to be outdone, Marie drew on all the knowledge she'd learned from Logan's intimate memories and kissed him back, threading her fingers in his hair and teasing him with her mouth and hands, refusing to be satisfied until she broke his rigid control.

She knew what he liked. That little shivery spot under his ear, a twirl of her tongue followed by a sharp bite, a slow stroke of her fingertips down his spine to the small of his back, a little sting of her nails. Nipping and sucking with wet, open-mouthed kisses. She whimpered deep in her throat aware he couldn't resist that little noise of surrender. It wasn't long before she felt his hips move as he ground his erection against her. She smiled against his lips and broke the kiss.

_Gotcha, s_ he thought triumphantly.

"None of that now, sugar," she said playfully, using her hand to still his hips. "Slow, remember?" Her eyes sparkled with merriment.

He only growled at her and claimed her mouth once more before taking her hands and pinning them roughly above her head in his powerful grip. She was playing a dangerous game. She'd caused his control to slip momentarily, but he'd be damned if he would let her win this battle of wills.

"You're gonna pay for that, darlin'."

Easily holding her two hands with one of his, he took the bandana from her face. He pulled back and looked at her. The animal in him was fighting to be free and it was insistent. It wanted to claim her fully. Now. She was breathing heavily and her lips were slightly red and swollen from his kisses. He could smell their arousal and his scent was on her skin.

_God, that's hard to ignore._

Her hair was spread out on his bed, a glorious blend of deep rich brown and shocking white. She was wearing a mischievous smirk he itched to wipe from her face. She had the gall to raise an eyebrow and give him a cheeky wink. It was the last straw.

_Alright, baby. We'll just see who has more control._

She might have had the element of surprise on her side initially, but he had all the experience and the memories she was drawing from were well over a year old... from a time before he'd really allowed himself free rein when it came to his sexual thoughts about her. Such was not the case now, and he intended to let her know it in graphic detail.

He met her eyes and for an instant he dropped his guard, letting her see the full measure of his need, letting her see exactly what the animal wanted. Her eyes darkened, not with fear, but with desire. She moaned softly and he hadn't even touched her, but yet she managed to keep still. He moved his free hand down and lightly brushed the pad of his thumb fleetingly across her collar bone, making sure the first thing her skin pulled from him was an erotic mental image of exactly what he wanted to do to her.

Marie sucked in her breath and closed her eyes. That image had been too much. Against her will, her body responded to him, rocking up against him once more. He lowered his head until his lips were almost brushing her ear. "Paybacks are a bitch, kid." He drew back smugly and gave her a self-satisfied grin before rolling off of her, chuckling softly.

Marie let out a shaky breath, which she saw pleased him even more.

_Damn the man._

He propped himself up beside her on one elbow, his hand still resting possessively on her hip.

_You might have won this round, sugar, but don't be so smug. I know your little game affected you too._

Marie gave him a playful pout. "Now that wasn't playing fair." Her body still hummed with desire and her pulse was erratic.

"Since when does the Wolverine ever play fair?" He grinned wickedly at her. He watched as the tip of her tongue came out and wet her bottom lip' partly in invitation, partly to chase after the lingering taste of his mouth. His nostrils flared at the heavy scent of want coming off her, and something inside him snapped. His hand tightened on her hip and gaze flickered hungrily over her before meeting her eyes. "I wanna make you come for me, darlin'," he said huskily. "And I wanna hear you shout my name when you do."

His low needy tone sent shivers down her spine. She reached out her hand and lightly ran her fingertips down the length of his erection, smiling at the way he growled and pushed himself against her hand.

"Touch me, Logan," she whispered.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby," he promised as he stroked his thumb over the hollow of her hipbone and dug his fingers into the soft curve of her hip. "So good." A wicked smile tugged at the corner of his sensual mouth as he leaned closer.

She was surprised when he rolled to his back and pulled her up against his body, her back to his chest. Her head was lolling back on his shoulder and she could feel his strong, muscular body under hers. As his hands began to move across her in big sweeping strokes that slowly began to focus more on her breasts, she shifted against him restlessly.

"Logan…."

"I know, honey."

He wanted her pressed right up against him so she could feel him close. So she'd know he was right there for her. So he could feel her every tremor and shudder as he gave Marie her first orgasm with him this way.

His hands swept lower, to her belly and back up again. Her scent was so good, so strong and so much. She was dying for it and that he could give that, give her pleasure, made him smile into her hair. He knew what she needed. When his hand swept down again, her legs parted, falling to either side of his. His hand stayed down that time, palming her crotch possessively as he held her against him.

He touched her then, sensual touches along her hips and thighs, over the mound of her pubic bone and down along the damp seam of her jeans. Firm, sure strokes where she needed them most and then teasing away, feather light touches to feel her writhe and whimper. His fingers came up to circle her navel.

"More?"

"Yes." Her answer came quickly and decisively. "Please, sugar… I need you to touch me."

One of her hands was in his hair. The other was wrapped around his forearm. He liked that. She wanted to feel him pleasuring her.

That drew a low growl from him in answer and his gloved fingers skated lower, stopping at the waistband of her pants and teasing in just under the edge. She sucked in a deep breath and her belly dropped, inviting him to slide his fingers lower.

"Under?"

She nodded against his shoulder and her fingers tightened on his forearm, exerting a gentle downward pressure. He'd been careful to be watchful for any sign she might feel nervous or uncomfortable. Her enthusiasm excited him.

His gloved hand slipped under her jeans but over her panties, rubbing more firmly this time. She moaned softly as her body melted against his. Soon she'd grow tense against him as he really focused and started urging her towards release. In a minute he'd withdraw his hand and when he put it back, it would be just his gloved fingers against her slippery folds.

"Christ, darlin'. Y'feel so good…"

Marie was confused when Logan suddenly inhaled sharply and went rigid. His eyes flew to the door a second before a loud pounding echoed through the room. He jerked his hand out of her pants and quickly shifted her off of him, putting himself between her and the door.

"Scott." Marie breathed worriedly. She wasn't concerned for Logan. She was concerned for Scott. The animal in Logan was very close to the surface right now. He controlled it with her, but she didn't think he'd have the slightest inclination to control it with Scott.

"Open up, you bastard." Scott shouted a second before he opened the door. He was expecting to find Logan alone. That had been mistake number one. The sight that met his eyes infuriated him. Logan was lying on the bed next to an obviously aroused Rogue. He had an erection that you'd have to be blind to miss and his hand was resting on her hip like it belonged there. Neither one of them had the grace to look the slightest bit guilty. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Get off of her!" That had been mistake number two, which was about two more than Logan could handle at the moment.

Marie shot a silent thank you skyward that Scott hadn't barged in a few minutes earlier when Logan's intimate assault on her control had her writhing against him.

_That would not have ended well at all._

With a snarl, Logan rose slowly from the bed and planted himself firmly between Scott and Marie. The languid movement was deceptive. There was nothing casual about it. His fury was barely contained. The movement reminded Scott of a predator slowly stalking his prey and he had to fight to keep from taking a step back.

"I don't remember inviting you in, bub," Logan said nastily.

"Probably because you were too busy seducing innocent girls." Scott shot back at him.

"Hey." That from Marie, but the protest was ineffectual.

Logan growled warningly at Scott. His blood was up and the animal was very close to the surface now. He managed to keep the claws in but only because letting them out would have been too big a temptation to sink them into some very deserving flesh. The thought was too enticing by half.

"Get out," Logan ordered. A pissed off Wolverine was a dangerous Wolverine.

Scott took a step back but he didn't leave. "I'm not leaving without Rogue." That was mistake number three. The look on Logan's face was positively feral.

"I don't care who you are. Nobody comes between the Wolverine and his mate."

_His mate? He's got to be joking._

"Your mate?" Scott's eyes were incredulous. "That's ridiculous. You're not married to her."

_Not yet,_ Logan thought as he bared his teeth at the male who was threatening to take his woman.

"So tell me again, One-Eye... just how many years did you live with Jeannie before you two got hitched? Hell, I heard you weren't much older than the kid here when the good doctor took you to bed. Nineteen, was it?" His voice was deadly cold.

Scott saw red, figuratively and literally. "Shut your mouth about her before I shut it for you."

Logan ignored the threat, hoping it wasn't empty.

"You have some nerve. I respected the fact that she was yours when I first came here. We both know she wanted me. Not a relationship, she'll always be your girl, but somehow I don't think that's what she was lookin' for from me." He was playing dirty now, but it was either that or stab the dick. "I coulda taken advantage of that, but I didn't."

"Leave Jean out of this, Logan." Scott said menacingly. "This isn't about her. It's about Rogue."

"Yeah... Remember me? Y'all just go on ahead and talk about me like I'm not here." She had a temper and she was quickly losing it.

Marie wasn't pleased by their macho display, but she understood it perfectly. Scott thought of her as a sister and generally speaking, brothers didn't like to think of their sisters romantically involved with men... especially men they didn't approve of who had checkered pasts, nine inch adamantium claws, and flagrantly flaunted the fact that fucking their girl wasn't entirely outside the realm of possibilities. That fact didn't make her feel too sunny either.

Thank God she knew how Logan really felt about Jean or that comment would have really pissed her off. While he still found Jean attractive, he wasn't attracted to her any more. For a long time she hadn't been sure how he felt about Jean. Marie couldn't quite bring herself to believe that he didn't want Jean, so one night when he was tired of trying to convince her otherwise, he'd reached out and touched her cheek with his bare hand and in that instant she'd known everything. That was the last time they had talked about Jean.

Marie got up off the bed and moved to stand beside Logan. She slid her arm around his back. Scott noticed that even though her hand was bare he didn't flinch. In fact, he didn't even spare her skin a glance.

_Fine._ _So, the bastard has guts._ Scott tried to ignore the deeper meaning and failed. _Ok, he has guts, but there has to be an incredible amount of trust between them for him to be that comfortable around her skin._ Scott didn't want to think about that. It made hating Logan easier.

Marie could feel Logan's muscles bunching under her arm. Scott had no idea how close he was coming to a nasty brawl with one seriously pissed off Wolverine.

"Scott, that's enough. I appreciate what you're trying to do but this is my life and my decision. I don't owe anyone an explanation. It's personal. I'm old enough to make my own choices and I expect the same consideration you'd give any other adult involved in a consensual relationship," Marie interjected calmly into the heated argument. "I think you should go. Now. We can talk later when everyone has had a chance to cool off."

"No." Both men spoke at once.

"No. He wants to do this now so we'll do it now," Logan ground out. "Listen up, Summers, 'cause I'm only gonna tell you once. Marie is my mate. I love her the same way you love Jean. Yeah, she's young, but she is eighteen - which is the age of consent in this country the last time I checked."

_Wait a second. Logan admitting he loves her?_

Scott was speechless at that revelation. Of all the things he thought Logan would say to him, that was the last thing he expected to hear. The shock must have shown on his face.

"That's right, Slim. I love her. As in 'till death do you part kinda love." Logan spared Marie a glance. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Not exactly how he'd planned on telling her, but he'd never been good with words. "I never thought I'd have that, and there's no fuckin' way I'm gonna let anyone take it away."

Scott watched as Logan turned to face Rogue and looked into her eyes with such tenderness that he felt like a voyeur for having witnessed it. He shifted his gaze from the couple.

_My God. He really loves her._

That shook him. Lust he could imagine, but love? That rocked him back. Scott turned his back on Logan and Rogue and went to the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob. "If you hurt her, Logan, I swear to God there's no place you'd be safe from me." Scott tapped the side of his visor.

"Fair enough," came the reply from behind him. Logan didn't even bother to look away from the woman in his arms. Scott opened the door.

"Oh, and Scott... stay the hell away from my girl."

Scott pulled the door shut behind him and smiled. He still didn't like it, but he could live with it. After all, if the Wolverine could find love anything was possible.

* * *

 


	18. Circles

The click of the door closing was loud in the room. The only other audible sound was Marie's erratic breathing. Neither of them spoke, afraid to disturb the moment. The look on Logan's face was so tender it made tears sparkled in her lashes. She knew he hadn't meant to reveal so much and she wondered if he wished now that he could take back the rashly spoken words. Maybe save them for someone who wasn't...

_Broken? Untouchable?_

Finally Logan spoke. "You okay, kid?"

She nodded.

"Let's get outta here, huh?" Marie swallowed and nodded. Logan grabbed his jacket and pulled it on, absent-mindedly checking the pocket like he always did, as he handed Marie her coat. Scott's scent still hung thickly in the air and it was driving Logan crazy. He grabbed Marie's gloves and practically pulled her from the room.

_Damn Slim for backin' me into a corner like that. That's not how I had planned to tell her. She deserves to hear that kinda declaration in a romantic way, not flung at another man in anger._

Logan cursed his temper, the circumstances surrounding the situation, and Scott in general. He didn't want to screw this up with Marie.

_And I don't want that dick screwin' it up either._

Almost without conscious thought, Marie and Logan headed for 'their' spot in the forest. At the edge of the trees, Marie halted abruptly. Logan sent her a questioning look when she suddenly stopped short.

"Did you... " she broke off, unsure. "Did you really mean all the things you said back there?" she asked quietly.

He met her eyes.

"Every word."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the trees. Marie felt like she was floating. Nothing felt real. She was so out of it, she neglected to notice Logan's odd behavior. He kept running his hand over the front pocket of his jacket. Not that either of them noticed, but there was a particularly worn spot there on his beat up old leather jacket, as if he'd run his hand over that precise spot a thousand times before. Truth be told, he had. Ever since he'd left her the first time and right after he'd had the ring made.

He'd carried that ring ever since. Sometimes hopeful, sometimes sad, sometimes angry with himself for indulging in that particular pipe dream. That she would ever want to be his girl… forever. Buying that ring had made the dream seem all the more real and so much more unattainable. He'd carried that ring for two years, waiting, hoping, longing for this moment. He'd have carried that ring for a hundred years if he'd had to.

The forest almost seemed to welcome them tonight. Logan always felt like that here, in this place. As if the forest recognized him as one of its own, sometimes gone for long stretches of time, yet always somehow finding his way back home. He lifted his head and took a deep breath. The scent of snow was in the wind. It had been for days. Logan wondered if tonight would be the night.

Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he always found a forest to watch the first snowfall of the season. He always had as long as he could remember. It was one of the few constants in his life. He would sit for hours watching the patchy green and brown of the forest change to delicate lacy white, and then later to pristine white as the snow covered everything.

He loved that something that seemed so barren could be changed so simply into something pure and untouched. It reminded him that things old and dead could be covered over and be reborn fresh and alive, renewed under a mantle of white. It gave him hope that he, too, could find that same sense of renewal. He knew that Marie had saved him, pulled him back from that edge of darkness threatening to swallow him. He'd been ready to let it. He'd been so tired. She'd made him care again. Made him want to live again, and how that had hurt, but somehow in the hurt, he'd found the courage to open his heart to love.

It hadn't been long after her ring was in his pocket that the first snow had fallen in that lonely forest in the Canadian Rockies. He'd sat in the falling snow and let it cover him like he was a part of the forest. He'd held the ring tightly in his palm thinking of her, wishing that he could share this with her, share his life with her. His skin had heated the ring until it felt like it burned in his palm with a life of its own.

He pulled out the other ring he'd had made. His ring. He'd never even allowed himself to try it on. He promised himself that they only way he'd ever wear that ring was if Marie put it on him. He put it in his palm with hers and smiled a sad smile as it, too, warmed to his touch. He almost never looked at them together. It was too painful a reminder that it was just a dream. He marveled at the way they fit together, her small ring nestled within the circle of his larger one. Together, one inside the other, like he longed to be with her. In that moment he realized Marie was his snow.

Marie, with the wide-eyed innocence and purity she wore like a cloak. It fell over him too whenever he was with her. Never smothering, but covering him lightly like the snow covered the forest. Covering old hurts and old wounds and renewing what was underneath.

He wished he could make her understand that. He wished, for the first time in his life, that he was a man of words so he could tell her exactly what she meant to him, but he was a man of few words who let his actions do the talking.

Marie watched Logan's face, wondering what he was thinking about. He was quiet tonight, even for him. She didn't mind that he wasn't a big talker. She had enough people talking in her head all the time. He was a man who let his actions speak for him. She loved that about him.

If all the people in her head had taught her anything, it was that actions spoke louder than words. She had a unique perspective, having absorbed people's thoughts after watching their actions. People rarely said what they thought, and for the most part, talk was cheap. It was what you did that mattered; that showed how a person truly felt.

Logan turned away from Marie for a brief moment and deftly removed the ring from his pocket. He smiled as he felt the familiar weight of it in his hand. Like it always did, it warmed quickly to his touch until it felt like a burning circle against his palm.

He wanted her to wear his ring, wear his name, such that it was. He'd had plenty of women over the years. Casual encounters had never been a problem for him. He'd never had any moral hang ups about sex before... until Marie. Something had surfaced in him. Something old. Something ingrained in his basic beliefs.

He wanted her, yes that was true, but he wanted her wearing his name first so that there would be no doubt when he took her that she truly belonged to him. It wasn't just about the sex. He wanted more than just sex. He wanted the right to comfort her when she was sad, laugh with her when she was happy, hold their children in his arms and watch them grow up with her. He wanted to bind her to him every way possible.

At first he wasn't too sure where that old fashioned thought had come from. It pretty much went against the way he'd lived his life until now. He'd gotten a bit of insight on that during that year he spent in Canada looking for answers about his past. There was still a great deal he didn't know but he'd learned he was indeed older than the Professor.

Over a century old.

So, if he was at least that old, it would explain where some of those old fashioned ideas had come from, the most prevalent of which was that he wanted Marie to be wearing his ring and his name before he took her for the first time. Maybe it also explained why her youth didn't bother him as much as everyone said it should. Men from that era routinely married younger women, women a lot younger than her.

_God, I hope she says yes. Scratch that. I hope she says yes and doesn't want a long engagement._

So when it came right down to it, he was a man with antiquated values, at least when it came to her, but he was still a man. _Jesus._ He was a man with a powerful animal instinct and a sex drive to match. Quite honestly he wasn't too sure how much longer he could hold the animal back from her. The Wolverine grew more restless, stronger, harder to control every day. He couldn't hold it off forever any more than he could stop himself from breathing. It was a part of his nature he couldn't keep denying for too much longer. Hopefully he wouldn't have to.

The thought of asking her to be his wife made his mouth dry and the world tilt crazily on its axis. _Get it together. You're the fuckin' Wolverine for Christ's sake._ Logan cleared his throat and turned to Marie.

"Trust me?" He asked quietly, pulling the glove snug on his right hand. Marie shivered with anticipation. He only wore gloves when he wanted to touch her bare skin.

"You know I do," she responded, puzzled by his behavior and the change in his mood.

"Take your gloves off, baby." A command, but a soft one.

_Nice and subtle, bub._ He made a mental note to try to curb his tendency to issue orders and take what he wanted instead of asking, at least with her.

Marie did as he asked, removing her gloves and tucking them into her pockets. She looked at him expectantly, wondering where he was going with this.

Slowly, deliberately, he caught her eyes and he sank to his knees in front of her as the first few snowflakes began to fall around them. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

_Oh, God. He can't possibly be doing what I think he's doing._

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

_Oh my God! He is!_

He thought about all the cliché things he could say in this moment, that he loved her, that he'd always loved her, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. While all those things were true, they just weren't him. He was a simple man. He hoped his simple heartfelt words would be enough.

He met her eyes and brought his bare hand up between them, opening it to reveal the small metal circle lying flush against his palm. Logan felt as if he'd lived his entire life for this one moment.

"Be mine, kid. Let me be yours. Always."

Marie couldn't answer. Tears choked her throat. She only nodded and smiled at him through the tears of wonder.

_Yes. Oh, God, yes._

An indescribable feeling of joy washed through him when she nodded. His palm moved imperceptibly and the moonlight shimmered over the ring. It was elegant, though deceptively simple in its appearance. He hoped she would like it.

Marie looked from his misty eyes to the ring. It was flat like a wedding band, with no stone so she'd be able to wear it comfortably under her gloves. It wasn't gold. The moonlight shimmered over it strangely. It lay there, luminescent with a hauntingly familiar sheen. That's when it hit her. She sucked in her breath.

_Oh my God. How is that even possible? It must have cost a small fortune._

In truth it had, paid for by the sweat and blood and pain of countless cage fights. Somehow, it only seemed fitting.

"Is that adamantium?" she breathed.

He nodded, using his gloved hand to slide the ring onto her finger. It was warm from his touch and it fit her perfectly once it slipped past her knuckle.

"I found a small reservoir of it at Alkali lake…. found someone else who could make this for me. I wanted you to have somethin' simple for under the gloves. Simple but not plain."

She gasped softly. From what she understood about adamantium, it had to remain liquid until it was used. Once cooled, it was indestructible. Another thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Is this…?"

"Yeah, I think so." It was likely left over from when they coated his bones and gave him the claws.

It was doubly precious to her now.

The tears in her eyes spilled over.

He looked at her hand and he felt a rush of satisfaction he'd not expected at the sight of his ring on her finger, a visible sign the world would recognize that she had a mate. _Mine. She's mine._ A ring he'd paid for with the suffering of his own body. He'd fought and bled for that right. He liked that. It meant something.

"It's beautiful, Logan." He could tell from her eyes she knew what this ring had cost him. Not in terms of money, but in the cost it exacted from him physically, what he'd endured. She touched it reverently with her right hand, twisting it gently on her finger. "I love it. It couldn't be more perfect." She smiled at him, her face radiant.

Logan stood gracefully and looked down at Marie. He slowly ran the thumb of his gloved hand down her cheek and over her lips. Tiny glistening snowflakes dusted her hair and her lashes making her seem almost unearthly. He took a step back and leaned against the tree, turning her, pulling her back against his chest and resting his chin just above her ear. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her close. A sense of complete peace filled him.

"Watch," he whispered into the shell of her ear.

Marie looked out into the trees and noticed the falling snow for the first time. Everywhere she looked things were delicately edged with gossamer flakes of white. The forest was completely still and silent, as if God himself had hushed all of nature for this one perfect moment. It couldn't have been more romantic. Marie could feel Logan's warmth seeping into her back as he held her closely in the lightly falling snow. The forest that always seemed comfortable and familiar became ethereal and magical under a blanket of frosty white.

"Logan?" Marie began softly into the soundless night.

"What is it, darlin'?" Marie rested her head back against his shoulder and he held her tighter.

"I don't want to wait... to get married."

_What?_

"You sure you're not caught up in the moment? I thought all girls wanted the big white dress and the flowers and all that other stuff."

"I'm not really a big dress kinda girl," she ventured shyly. "I was thinking we could have Father O'Riley perform the ceremony tonight. It wouldn't be legally binding without going to the courthouse, but it would be binding in God's eyes. Wouldn't that be enough for now?" Marie could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he thought it over. "Maybe we could do something simple with the Professor and everyone later. Most of the weddings I went to back home were the kind that ended with a backyard barbeque. I kind of like that idea."

"That sounds real good, baby." Logan wanted to make her his tonight more than anything, but he gave one last halfhearted attempt to sway Marie. "But it's okay if you wanna wait. I ain't goin' anywhere. Though I kinda like the idea of somethin' real simple." Logan heard the smile in her voice as she answered him.

"We've waited two years already. I think that's long enough." Marie turned in his arms so she could look into his eyes. "You know I'm right. The way you are, the way I am, the way we are together... It should be this way, now, tonight. Just us. This time is ours, for us alone."

He wasn't going to argue with her anymore. He wanted this far too much, wanted her far too much, and she was right. It should be this way. He wasn't sure about her, but he couldn't imagine anything more fitting than making Marie his wife in the forest surrounded by the first snowfall of the season.

"C'mon, darlin'," he said stepping away from the tree but refusing to let her out of his arms completely. "Let's go find the Father."

Father O'Riley ran the Sunday service in the small chapel on the school grounds. A mutant himself, he spent a great deal of time counseling students in all kinds of matters, not just the divine. He was both kind and wise and had the respect of the students and faculty alike.

He was a short nondescript man with brown hair, brown eyes, a round belly and a ready smile. His mutation was nothing extreme. He just made things grow, flowers, plants, trees, anything that had roots. He had a beautiful herb garden outside the chapel where he spent most of his time when he wasn't busy with God's work. He would say that was one of the reasons he liked to work with the children here; he helped them put down roots and watched over them as they grew.

Logan and Marie approached the gray stone chapel arm in arm. The warm light from the windows illuminated the snow as it fell, making the flakes almost seem to glow. It was late, but they weren't worried about disturbing him. His door was always open, whether one was seeking solace or just wanted to talk.

Logan opened the door and ushered Marie inside. They took in the familiar view, made all the more homey by the candlelight. Father O'Riley only ever used candles. It was a strange quirk, but since the Professor had enough money to keep Father O'Riley in candles for several lifetimes, he didn't mind. Everyone liked it. It always made the place seem welcoming, even if it was a bit warm in the summer with all those candles burning.

The light from the candles illuminated the plain wooden pews and made the rich jewel toned colors of the stained glass windows glow warmly. It was a simple, humble chapel. Not a bit of gilt in sight. No ornate décor of any sort at all. Father O'Riley didn't care for ostentatious displays. He'd never really cared much for the trappings of man. Logan agreed with him. He didn't particularly care for the trappings of man either.

Logan took a quick look around. Father O'Riley wasn't in the chapel or in his small private chamber either. "Maybe he's in the garden," Marie offered. Logan wrapped his arm around Marie again and they left the chapel.

Once outside, Logan took a deep breath trying to catch the Father's scent on the wind. "This way," he said directing their path toward the forest. Father O'Riley was sitting on a stone bench at the edge of the trees, staring into the forest. He turned at the sound of their footsteps.

"Logan, Rogue, I'm sorry I wasn't there to welcome you. I got caught up watching the good Lord's glorious display." He gestured to the snow-covered forest. He stood up and shook the white flakes from his simple brown robes. "How can I be of service to you both this fine winter evening?"

Logan gave Marie a squeeze. "We want you to marry us, Father."

Father O'Riley smiled. "That's wonderful news. I'm so happy for you both." Over the last two years he'd spoken with Rogue on a number of occasions and even Logan once or twice. He had hoped that when the two of them finally got together that he would get to be the one to perform the ceremony. "I had hoped I'd be the one to marry you both." He smiled grandly. He clapped Logan on the shoulder and gave Rogue a wink. "When is the blessed event?"

Logan spoke again. "We were hopin' you could do it tonight."

Father O'Riley looked from Logan to Rogue, noticing the glow on their faces and the way they seemed unable to let go of each other.

_Ah, young love._

"Of course."

Logan continued on. "We were thinkin' of doing somethin' small with everyone later, a barbeque or somethin', but tonight we want it to be just us."

Father O'Riley knew them both well. Their request didn't surprise him in the least. He knew their desire for a private ceremony wasn't because they wanted to hide what they had from their friends, but because they both felt that it was a moment too personal and intimate to be shared. Both of them were too private to want to be the center of attention. A celebratory meal sounded more like them. He agreed whole-heartedly. He was a man who enjoyed a well smoked plate of ribs and a good, stout beer.

He was also aware that both of them felt that the spiritual part of the ceremony was more binding than the legal part. One was just a piece of paper while the other was a joining of souls, so while they wouldn't be married in the eyes of the law, they would be in their hearts. He suppressed a chuckle. As much as Logan detested bureaucracy of any sort, he bet Logan would have that particular piece of paper before the week was out. Now that he had Marie he wasn't about to give anyone a reason to doubt his claim.

He smiled cheerfully at them both. "I'd be honored to perform the ceremony," he said solemnly. "Am I to take it you also wish me to marry you here?" he said, indicating to the snow covered forest behind him. Marie and Logan looked at each other and then back to the good Father and they both nodded. Father O'Riley smiled again. He couldn't think of a more fitting place for the Wolverine to take a wife and the Rogue to take a husband.

They followed Father O'Riley into the forest. Logan leaned over and whispered into her ear. "For when the time comes," he said, pressing the second, larger ring into her palm. His ring. Her fingers closed over it and she knew it was the mate to hers even before she looked.

She smiled at him seeing the question in his eyes. "It's perfect. Exactly what I would have picked for you if the sky was the limit," she whispered back.

Logan smiled back at her, relieved she was okay with him picking both rings. Hell, he didn't know any of the rules to this marriage stuff. He just went about it the same way he tackled everything else in his life. Head on. He didn't know how to do things any other way. Thankfully, Marie seemed to like that about him, which he figured was probably a good thing since it wasn't going to change.

Father O'Riley stopped for a moment and knelt beside the trunk of a large pine tree. He closed his eyes and held his hands a few inches above the earth. A warm glow seemed to pulse from his hands for a moment before he opened his eyes and sat back. He picked the flowers that had almost seemed to appear by magic, taking care not to disturb the bulbs beneath the ground.

He handed the small bouquet of white winter crocus to Marie before standing up. "Every bride should have flowers," he said watching the smile bloom on Marie's face. He nodded at her soft 'thank you' and he resumed his walk deeper into the forest, leaving Marie and Logan to follow.

He finally stopped in a small clearing. "Will this do?" He asked the couple.

They never took their eyes from each other. "This'll be fine," Logan said quietly.

Marie and Logan stood together in the tiny clearing as the good Father preformed a simple ceremony over them, joining them together. Everyone's eyes were bright with tears when Marie slipped the ring on Logan's finger.

Father O'Riley finished the ceremony and gave them his blessing before he retreated silently, melting back into the forest, leaving the new husband and wife alone together in the lightly falling snow.

* * *

 


	19. Mine

_Author's note: It's a long one; a double length chapter because I thought you guys (and the Wolverine) might be out for blood if I stopped in the middle. A special thanks to ccgnme for the line I couldn't help adding in at the last minute. Feedback is damned dangerous when it comes with bunnies hidden inside! A word of warning, as well… the story is far from over, but it's pretty citrusy from here on out. (Shocking, I know. Heh.) You have been warned, bub. :)_

* * *

 

 

Logan slid his arm slowly around Marie's slender waist and drew her to him. His other hand skimmed along her jaw to cradle the back of her neck. He met her eyes. They were wide and nervous. Not afraid of him, afraid _for_ him. He pulled her mouth closer to his.

"What are you doing, sugar?"

"Kissin' my wife."

"But my skin... "

"Sorry, darlin', but nothin' is gonna keep me from kissin' that sweet mouth of yours. Not even your skin," his voice grew husky. "I love your skin… S'so soft. You're not gonna hurt me, baby."

"But-"

He lowered his mouth to hers, effectively cutting off her protest. Her lips felt soft and warm against his. He kissed her top lip and then her full bottom lip before he felt the connection open. She gasped as she felt him rush into her. He took advantage of the open mouth under his and pushed his tongue inside, tasting her, loving the feel of her bare mouth against his. She moaned softly and he felt the silky brush of her tongue as she responded to him. That's what he'd been waiting for. He pulled away and dropped like a stone, smiling the whole way down.

_Damn._

"Logan!" Marie dropped to her knees next to him in the snow. "Oh, God. Are you okay?"

He grunted a reply, still on his knees, head bowed, breathing deeply. His hands were resting weakly on his knees and he was using all his considerable strength to remain conscious. He could feel his body healing itself, replenishing what she'd taken from him.

_No, that ain't right. What I gave her - what I wanted her to have._

"You... You shouldn't have done that... with my skin and... " She was finding it hard to form a complete thought in the aftermath of the intense rush she'd gotten from him.

He lifted his head and raised a brow at her. "Naggin' me already, kid?"

"Logan." Her voice was stern, but carried no real anger. She was too busy sorting out the thoughts and feelings her skin had pulled from him.

_Well that's good 'cause I'm busy tryin' to get it together enough to stand up and get us back to my... no, our room._

He knew he had surprised her, but nothing was going to keep him from kissing his wife. A self-satisfied smile touched his lips as he struggled to his feet, pulling her up with him. Both of them were swaying unsteadily. He was the Wolverine, dammit. He wasn't going to let a little thing like deadly skin get in his way.

Well, he might be the Wolverine, but she'd knocked him on his ass.

_I suppose I'll be hearin' about that later, but then again, you hafta admire anyone who can put down the Wolverine._ He suppressed a chuckle.

He'd made light of it, but he'd been serious about kissing her. Every man got to kiss his bride. Why should they be any different? He was determined to make their marriage as normal as he could and every bride deserved to feel her husband's lips against her skin on her wedding night. Well that and he'd really, really wanted to kiss her. So he had, holding out against the rush until he'd felt her responding to him. He could still taste her on his lips. The animal part of him uncoiled, railing against the tight control, knowing freedom was close at hand. Tasting her on his mouth only whet his appetite for more. He looked at her and growled deep and low in his chest.

Her body was tingling from the kiss and from what she'd pulled from him. Her skin pulled surface thoughts first and worked its way down to subconscious thoughts, while simultaneously drawing off a person's mutation. He'd broken off the kiss before she'd passed the surface thoughts, but she'd gotten a healthy dose of his mutation. She could feel it burning through her body.

Her senses grew sharper. She could smell the snow and the musky scent of their arousal. She could hear both of their hearts beating and she could taste him in her mouth. Every sense was amplified. Despite the lateness of the hour, she felt her fatigue vanish. She no longer felt the cold bite of the wind. The faint red marks on her wrists from when he'd playfully pinned her down earlier faded. Every minute ache and pain disappeared. She felt incredible.

"That's one hell of a handy mutation, sugar."

His teeth flashed. "Ain't it?"

But that was just the tip of the iceberg. She'd pulled his thoughts and emotions too. She'd felt the love and tenderness he had for her and his profound joy that she was now his wife, but most prominent in his mind had been the need to claim her, to make her his. She could tell those thoughts she'd pulled were directly from the animal part of him. It wanted to mark her with his body, to overlay her scent with its own. That part of him didn't really think in words. It simply wanted.

The emotions she'd pulled from that part of him were wild, primal. One thought, overwhelming in its intensity, repeated over and over in her head.

_Mine._

Marie shuddered. Thanks to that kiss, that animal was inside her now too. She could feel it waiting, wanting, and she was much less adept at controlling it than he was.

_God, did he feel like this all the time?_

Her senses were working overtime, making everything more intense. Each scent, each touch and taste was almost excruciating in its intensity. All of her nerves were jangling, on fire. Desperate and hungry. It only made it harder to control the wildness inside her.

_It's a wonder he's held out for so long._

She looked up at him.

He met her eyes and growled again, the playful light was gone, replaced by a look of raw hunger now that his body had recovered fully. He watched her shudder under his intense gaze, his eyes glowing with feral satisfaction at her response to him. The scent of her desire was thick in the night air. He tried to tell her what he was feeling, but all he could manage was a growl. It was taking all his effort to keep the animal in check. It was clawing at him, demanding he take her now, here on the ground in the snow. It was his right. She belonged to him.

Logan closed his eyes and breathed deeply, willing the animal back.

_No. Can't do that... not this time._

For as much as Marie had in her head, it was still her first time. Her mind might know him but her body did not. He wanted, needed, to make it good for her even though he knew she'd let him take her right now. He clenched his teeth against that overwhelming urge. He could smell how wet and ready she was for him and the heavy ache between his legs was almost unbearable.

Marie watched him struggling to maintain control. His powerful body shook with the effort and his eyes had shifted to a gleaming gold. She reached out and stroked his back gently. He jerked under the soft touch.

"Logan... it's okay."

They both knew what she was offering. The man in him rebelled, but the animal rejoiced. His hand shot out and grabbed her arm roughly, intending to pull her to the ground with him. He opened his eyes and saw his hand wrapped around her arm; both of their rings were clearly visible in the pale light. The sight sobered him.

_Christ, I almost..._ He didn't even want to finish that thought.

He loosened his grip on her arm and crushed her to him, wrapping his arms around her. She was his wife, his _wife_ , for Christ's sake. She deserved better than a quick, animalistic fuck on the cold hard ground. He was disgusted that he'd even considered her offer and furious with himself for grabbing her with every intention of taking her hard and fast on the forest floor with the snow falling all around them. He was humbled once again by her selflessness. She'd known what he wanted and had been willing to give him what he needed, despite the cost to herself. He strengthened his resolve to make tonight unforgettable for her.

"I'm sorry."

She pulled back and stared into his eyes, putting every bit of what she was feeling into that look.

"I'm not." She smiled wickedly, leaned into him and bit his shoulder sharply while making a noise of contentment deep in her throat.

_Jesus._

He wondered just how much of the animal she'd pulled from him.

_Is she purrin'?_

He needed to get them out of here. Now. It was becoming increasingly difficult to think coherently. He needed privacy and... a bed.

_Yeah, that's it. A bed... someplace to lay her down and... Dammit._

That wasn't helping matters.

He stepped away from her, breathing heavily. He slid on his gloves, smiling when he saw his ring. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of seeing it. He'd waited an eternity to wear it, to belong to someone. Someone who loved him despite his flaws. He reached for her hand.

"C'mon, darlin'. Let's go home."

_Home._

She smiled shyly at him and entwined her fingers with his. Her husband wanted to take her home. Hand in hand they walked back to the school, a man and his wife, both reborn in the silently falling snow.

**~oOo~**

Thankfully, they made it back and upstairs without running into anyone. As they approached their rooms, Marie stopped at her door. Logan wasn't too sure what to make of that.

"Kid?" Surely she knew she'd be sleeping with him now. Just because they hadn't advertised their wedding didn't mean he intended to go on as they had before. She belonged at his side, in his bed, with his scent drying on her skin. He growled softly.

Correctly reading the look on his face and the warning in the growl, she flushed.

"I just need to get a few things, you know... for tonight." He nodded, relieved by her words. "You can go on ahead. I'll be there in a minute." She fidgeted nervously and he grinned wolfishly.

"I'll wait." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall beside her door.

"I'll hurry."

"You better."

She darted inside and closed the door quietly behind her. The last thing she wanted to do was to wake Jean and Scott and have a scene in the hall. She grabbed her backpack and dumped its contents onto her bed. She gathered all the necessary items and put them in the pack. On impulse she added her toothbrush and some toiletries, not bothering to close the drawers in her haste to get back to Logan. She checked the clock. Four minutes.

_Not bad._

Marie opened the door and stepped back into the hall, closing the door softly.

"You ready?" He rumbled quietly. She nodded. He took the pack from her and slung it over his shoulder before putting a hand at the small of her back and leading them to his door. He paused.

"Sugar?"

"I, uh... " _Oh, to hell with it._ He scooped her up in his arms and carried her inside using his booted foot to push the door shut. He set her down gently, taking her gloved hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. "I love ya, kid."

"I love you too." She smiled shyly and slid her pack off his arm, holding it nervously in her small hands. "I need... " she looked over at the bathroom.

"Yeah, okay." He watched her walk toward the bathroom, appreciating the gentle sway of her hips.

_Damn, she has a great ass._

She flipped on the light but left the door open a little. "I'll just be a minute."

He was glad she didn't feel like she had to hide behind a closed door now that they were married. Neither of them had ever shut the door around each other before. He'd never really thought about it. Trust and intimacy, two things he'd never had with a woman before. Hell, two things he'd never had with _anyone_ before, yet somehow he'd had them with Marie from the beginning.

Logan removed his gloves and tossed them on the desk. Warmth bloomed in his chest again at the sight of the simple ring on his finger. He shrugged out of his wet jacket, peeling off the damp flannel shirt and his t-shirt before pulling off his boots and socks. He lit the candle on the nightstand and turned out the lights. The candle didn't provide much illumination, just a warm golden glow.

_S'good. Real nice._

He took out a couple of condoms from the drawer in his nightstand and put them beside the candle. He thought about it a minute and somewhat sheepishly added a few more.

_For Christ's sake, I'm a mutant. It's nothin' to be embarrassed about._ His hands shook slightly at the thought of touching Marie so intimately. _Fuck, it's been a long time. Too long._

From the drawer in his nightstand, he also removed a pair of gloves he'd ordered for just this occasion. Black, of course, and made from the thinnest, buttery soft leather he could find. He wasn't sure what Marie had planned so he put the gloves with the condoms on the nightstand. He pulled out the last thing he had bought for tonight, a large square of the finest black silk that he could find. It was filmy and sheer and the softest thing he'd ever felt, other than Marie's skin.

For weeks after he'd bought it, he hadn't been able to get fantasies of Marie and black silk out of his head. He sat down in his chair and waited for Marie, idly wrapping the square of exquisite silk around his fist. Thankfully, he didn't have long to wait.

Once in the bathroom, Marie hurriedly stripped off everything but her ring and wriggled into one of the nude bodystockings she'd ordered expressly for this purpose. It was sheer and matched her alabaster skin perfectly. She put his tags back around her neck and reached for the scarf she'd brought. It was Logan's favorite. She grinned. _Nope, no white lingerie for me on my wedding night... just a bodystocking and his favorite scarf._ Marie draped it seductively around neck and gave herself a once over in the mirror. She barely recognized the woman staring back at her.

_Logan's gonna swallow his tongue when he sees this bodystocking._ Her grin was wicked. _Wait until he finds out I ordered a black one too..._ Marie reached for the light.

The bathroom light clicked off and she stepped out wearing a green scarf, his tags, and a smile.

Logan choked.

_Christ, all that bare skin... She knows I'm not gonna be able to keep my hands off her. What's she tryin' to do, kill me?_

She'd wrapped the scarf once around her neck and let the long tail hang down to cover one breast, her navel, and that part of her he was so eager to see.

_Tease. She's gonna pay for that later._

Her dark hair hung over her shoulder hiding her other breast from his view as well. He scowled, trying to figure out just what kind of game she was playing with him.

She shifted her weight and the candlelight flickered over her oddly. He sucked in his breath when he realized she was wearing a sheer bodystocking that covered her from neck to toes.

_Completely sheer and completely touchable... thank you, God._

He couldn't even see a seam. He growled quietly in appreciation. Never let it be said that his girl didn't have an imagination.

_Goddamn._

"C'mere."

His eyes darkened as he watched her cross the room gracefully. With every step the scarf shifted teasing him with glimpses of her body. She stopped in front of him and smiled seductively at him. She was the only woman he knew who could look like a sex goddess and an innocent at the same time.

"Turn around."

His voice never wavered, but Marie could see he had a death grip on the arms of the chair. She spun around slowly watching him watch her. With her heightened senses from their earlier kiss, she could smell his desire. She breathed in deeply, wanting more of the intoxicating scent. Her chest rose and it pushed her nipples against the sheer fabric. It felt good, and yet at the same time, like not nearly enough.

"Now the scarf."

His voice was huskier this time. Marie slid her hands up her body loving the way his eyes smoldered as he watched her brush her hair back over her shoulder, baring one breast to his intent gaze. He was growling softly now and his eyes glittered with a feral light, shining a deep, molten gold.

"The scarf, Marie."

Roughly this time.

She smiled shyly and slowly, temptingly unwound the scarf from her neck and let it pool on the floor in a soundless viridian river. The growling that had grown louder stopped suddenly.

The beauty of her body stole his breath. He watched as a blush crept over her creamy skin and spread down across her generous breasts. Her waist was small but her hips were nicely rounded and her legs seemed to go on forever. She was blushing, but her eyes were devouring him. Her tongue came out and wet her bottom lip with the unconscious urge to taste him. She was staring at his mouth. He clenched his jaw against the urge to drag her across the room and pull her down on the bed with him.

"Beautiful," he rasped, coming to his feet.

He stood slowly, still fighting the need to let the animal loose. He'd promised himself he would make this good for her. She looked up at him breathlessly. His presence seemed to fill up the room, overwhelming all of her heightened senses. He unbuckled his belt and pulled it from his jeans, never taking his eyes from hers. He dropped it, letting it join her scarf at their feet. Marie shivered in anticipation as she watched him unwind the black silk from his fist.

"I wanna touch you. First with my hands, then with my mouth, and then with the rest of me, darlin'."

"Yes…"

Trust and desire shown in her eyes as she opened her arms to him in love. He stepped into them and pulled her against his body. He buried his face in her neck and whispered hotly against the tender skin of her throat as he slid his hands down her back and over her hips.

"Feel me. Feel how hard you make me." He pressed her closer and ground her against his erection, showing her how much he needed her. Needed this.

_God, too long_.

Marie moaned his name softly and slid her hands down his muscular back, stopping at the waistband of his jeans. He smiled against her throat as her tentative touch slipped lower. Marie closed her eyes at the sensation of his mouth alternately licking and sucking at her neck. He could taste her through the sheer cloth and it was driving him wild. He pushed one denim-clad thigh between her legs and felt a thrill of satisfaction as she whimpered in her throat and slowly started riding him.

"Mmmm…. Logan."

"Soon, darlin'. Soon."

The animal rose up, overwhelming his control for a brief moment. Without warning, he bit her sharply. Her breath hissed through her teeth and her small hands gripped him tightly as she shivered and rubbed herself against him. She caught her bottom lip in her teeth to keep from biting him in return.

"Sorry, baby," he breathed, murmuring against her flushed skin. "You just make me so... " His voice trailed off into a groan as she ran her palm down the length of his erection.

_Fuck._

His body throbbed and all he could think about was how much he wanted to bury himself inside her, to feel her soft lithe body yield to his harder one. To feel her wanting him. To feel her accepting him into her. He wanted her on his bed, on her back. Now.

Not once taking his hands or mouth from her, he backed her slowly towards the bed. Her touch was no longer tentative as her hands roamed over his body drinking him in. Marie felt the bed bump the back of her legs. She looked up at him. His hazel eyes were nearly black with desire. His hands stilled, one wrapped in her hair, the other at her breast. Without the slightest bit of hesitation, she trailed her fingers down over his taut stomach and undid the button on his jeans.

_Christ, any more of her innocent explorations and I'm gonna lose it._

He forced himself to remain still under her touch.

Logan groaned and dropped his head back, trying to concentrate on anything other than the way her hands brushed against his tortured flesh as she eased his zipper down and pushed his jeans from his hips. He stepped out of them and stood before her unselfconsciously. He let her look her fill. He knew she liked what she saw. He could smell it on her.

Marie couldn't look away from the sight of his thick cock, rising proudly from the dark tangle of hair. His scrotum was full and heavy with a sprinkling of the darker hair that framed the impressive stand of insistent flesh.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her. Her eyes were wide and she was staring at him. It wasn't too hard to figure out why. He leaned in close and whispered huskily into her ear, trying to ease her fears.

"Don't worry, darlin'. It'll fit. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm gonna make it so good. I swear, baby." He stroked her back soothingly for a moment, trying to get a better handle on his tenuous control.

"I know." Her smile was soft and full of love. "I trust you."

She reached for him and he felt the gentle inquisitive brush of her hand against his erection. He growled sharply and grabbed her hand, pulling it away from him abruptly. For a moment, his hips chased her hand, desperate for her intimate touch.

"Not this time." Almost a snarl.

"Logan?

"Jesus, I can't. It's too much."

He could tell he'd embarrassed her.

_Dammit_.

That was the last thing he wanted to do. He kissed her palm and pressed it to his heart. Wrapping his hand in the black silk he brought her chin up and looked in her eyes.

"Sorry, darlin'. What you did wasn't wrong. It was real good. Too good. You can touch me 'till your heart's content... later. It's just too much right now. I need it to be about you right now, honey. All of me belongs to you, kid. You can play all you wanna. Just after."

Understanding lit her eyes. A slow seductive smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "As much as I want? Is that a promise, sugar? Because I've been saving it up for a long damn time…." He only growled at her. Her smile got bigger.

"Get on the bed, Marie."

She lay back on the bed, her face partially hidden by her hair. He reached for the gloves on the nightstand and pulled them on before stretching out next to her on the bed. Slowly, reverently, he pushed back her hair and traced her features, the arch of her brows, the apple of her cheek, the bow of her lips. Over and over again as if he was trying to memorize her face with his touch.

He made her feel... cherished.

Gently, he drew a corner of the black silk over her nose and mouth and kissed her tenderly. He deliberately refrained from touching her anywhere else, wanting all her attention focused on his mouth. He deepened the kiss, growling softly as her tongue stroked his through the filmy silk. So close, so intimate, they shared the same breath as they slowly tasted each other.

He felt something inside him give and the kiss became deeper, his hunger for her unchecked. He devoured her mouth, sucking and nipping, trapping all of their sounds between them as their mouths meshed. Logan held nothing back because this time he didn't have to stop. Marie recognized the difference immediately. She realized how tightly he'd leashed his control as he'd waited for her to grow up and she also realized just how much it had cost him.

He broke the kiss long enough to pull the silk away from her face. His mouth slid down her neck once again and he flicked his tongue over the pulse beating frantically at the base of her throat. His hands found her breasts and her nipples hardened under his palms. He loved that she was so responsive to his touch. It did incredible things for his ego. He pulled at them gently and then not so gently, reveling in the sounds he wrung from her. The light touch of her hands on his body was driving him insane. He couldn't fight both the animal and his own body for control at the same time.

_Gotta do somethin' 'bout those hands._

Logan slid half way on top of her and pinned her hands above her head roughly with one of his.

"Keep 'em there," he growled at her, punctuating the order with a little nip for her disobedience.

He spread kisses down her neck and across her chest. Marie gasped when she felt the searing heat of his mouth close over one rosy crest. He suckled at her, drawing more soft sounds from her throat as he caught her nipple between his teeth and lashed it with his tongue.

"God, Logan!"

Marie closed her eyes and arched into his mouth as a wave of pleasure rippled through her. She panted softly as she watched the dark head bent at her breast. He sucked sharply and then laved the sting away with his tongue. The feel of his mouth was an exquisite torture. Each intimate touch made the throbbing between her thighs more acute. She pressed her legs together against the ache.

"Logan, please... " she murmured, unsure of what she was asking for. All she knew was that she needed something... _more_.

"It's alright, baby. I know. I know."He loosened his grip on her wrists. "Gonna make you feel so good, baby. So good. Gonna make you come for me."

"Please….more…"

His free hand slid down between her breasts and over his tags before moving down over her flat stomach. He circled her navel with one long finger, eliciting a shiver from her before his hand trailed lower to knead her hip. Unable to keep still any longer, Marie's hips began to rock slowly.

"Fuck, yes. That's right, baby. Show me how you need it."

Her head was beginning to toss a little. "I need you…touch me. Touch me, sugar."

"That's it, darlin'. Move those hips for me," he whispered urgently against her neck.

Unconsciously, his own hips began to move in time with hers, pushing his thick erection against her, leaving warm, damp trails on her hip. Gently, but insistently, he nudged her legs apart with his hand. She didn't resist, in fact, with every move of her body she told him how much she craved his touch, craved him. Her legs fell open. A hot rush of possessiveness assaulted him and he bit the soft curve of her breast, sucking hard. He tore his mouth from her and groaned at the thrill he felt at seeing her body carrying his mark.

_Fuck._

He dropped his forehead to her breast, breathing hard. She was making those soft little noises in her throat that brought his every primal instinct rushing to the surface. He growled against her flushed skin as he felt her open her legs a little wider, silently begging for his touch.

"That's the way, baby. Open for me. Wider."God, her scent was driving him wild. "It's alright, honey," he soothed huskily as he slid his hand between her legs and found the small opening in the bodystocking.

"So wet for me, darlin'. I love you so much here."

"Mmmm…."

She was slick and ready for him. He felt a surge of pride that he'd been the one to coax this response from her body. He caressed her gently, stroking her until his fingers were drenched and her hips were rising up to meet his hand.

"Gotta taste you, baby."

His eyes met hers and he slowly brought his fingers to his mouth, taking a moment to inhale her scent before greedily savoring the taste of her. He watched her watch him and her eyes glittered with sensual promise.

"So good," he murmured as he returned his hand to her, stroking more insistently this time. Her soft cries were steadily eroding what was left of his control. _Fuck._ He slid a finger inside her and they both groaned.

"Oh, God…"

Slowly he added a second finger and started a slow steady rhythm that had soon had her hips arching up off the bed and her breath coming in soft pants.

"God, you're tight," he growled through clenched teeth. He met her eyes. "I need to be here." He reinforced his words with a slow thrust of his fingers. "Need to be inside you. Just you. Nobody else. Just you. Forever."

He pulled his hand from her, intent on tasting her one last time. She caught his wrist and brought his hand toward her mouth instead. A little unsure of herself, she hesitated for an instant and met his eyes.

"Please, sugar…"

_How can she know I wanna watch her do that?_ Understanding rushed through him. _My fantasies._

He looked into her wild eyes and knew he was right. He could tell she wanted it as much as he did. The searing look she gave him was the last straw. Fuck restraint. She parted her lips in invitation and he pushed his fingers inside. He shuddered as he felt her tongue flickering over his fingers through the thin leather.

"God, darlin', you don't know what you're doin' to me," he ground out as he withdrew his fingers and watched her lick her lips, tasting herself. He crushed her to him and rubbed himself against her, growling low and deep. They were both breathing hard and trembling. "I wanna put my mouth here, baby." He stroked her slick folds. "I wanna make you come that way but I can't wait. I need you so much."

Her eyes were shining with love. "Then take me," she said simply. "I'm yours. I always have been."

"Now, baby. It hasta be now. You're killin' me, honey."

He rolled away from her, pulling off a glove as he reached for a condom. Her body suddenly bereft without him, she opened her eyes and held out her arms.

"Please, Logan."

_I can't wait any longer. Please._

He nodded as he finished rolling the condom on and he moved over her, teasing her with the tip, slicking himself with her sweet essence before fitting just the head inside her. There was no getting around it. As ready as she was, this was probably going to hurt her a little.

"Trust me?" He waited for her nod before he lowered his head to hers and kissed her bare mouth, feeling the connection open as he entered her with a slow, smooth thrust. All in. all at once. "Umph."

He pulled his mouth from hers; giving her just enough of his mutation to heal any damage he might have caused, but not enough to weaken him. Her eyes were wondrous.

"Do I really feel like that to you?"

He'd forgotten she pulled his feelings too. _Damn._ If she'd felt what he'd felt in that moment as he pushed into her, kissing all of her inside, she had to be feeling pretty fucking good right about now. He could feel her stretching to accommodate his girth as her body adjusted and he sunk in a little deeper.

"Yeah, darlin', you feel that good."

It was more than good. It was wet and hot and tight and better than anything he'd ever felt in his life... and then she moved under him.

_Sweet Christ!_

White spots danced before his eyes and he squeezed them shut at the sensation of her body moving around him. His features twisted in a grimace of intense pleasure and he grunted softly.

He was a hair's breadth away from losing control. _Just a little longer._ He wanted to make sure it was good for her first. She deserved that much and then he could seek his release. He withdrew and pushed into her again, and then again, setting a strong rhythm. He tried to go slowly and prolong it as long as possible, but the small hands digging into his shoulders were insistent.

"Please, Logan, don't hold back - not with me." He knew she wasn't talking just about the sex.

_She doesn't know what she's askin'. She can't want that. Nobody wants that._

"Logan, please."

His rhythm changed, thrusting harder, deeper, until she was thrashing under him.

"Oh, God... " She closed her eyes.

"No! Keep your eyes open, honey. I wanna see you. Wanna watch you come for me, pretty girl." Growling now. She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. "Just- just a little more now. You're so close, baby."

She locked her eyes with his and her fingers tightened on his shoulders. He could feel the little flutters inside her heralding her approaching orgasm.

"Uuunnhh…."

" _That's it, baby, come on."_ Gritting his teeth in an effort to hold back his own orgasm, he withdrew and thrust forcefully into her again. His fingers dug into her hips as he held her at just the right angle for her to-

"Logan!"

He watched her eyes as she flew apart under him and he felt her muscles clench strongly around him, squeezing him tight as she arched up off the bed, eyes locked on his, body trembling all over. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and he felt a surge of male satisfaction that he could bring her such pleasure. He froze, trying to etch this moment into his memory forever. Trying not to let it pull him over too.

His powerful body trembled with a need too long denied as he waited for Marie to come back to herself. Sweat wet his chest and tickled down his back and he shook with the strain of holding himself back. Finally she fluttered under him.

"Logan, let go," she urged softly.

Three simple words.

He felt the last thread of his control snap. The animal roared in victory as he surrendered himself willingly to it. His movements were wild and uncontrolled now, with none of their earlier finesse. They spoke of a need he'd denied not just with her, but one he'd always denied.

Marie knew he'd never let the animal out with anyone before. That he was secure enough with her to let go the last of his barriers moved her to tears. He growled deep in his chest and stilled against her. One heartbeat. Then another. His mouth found her shoulder and he bit her sharply as his body shuddered against her. He came hard and loud. The release burned through him, spreading out from his spine like liquid fire. Consuming him.

"Mine!" He growled around the bruised flesh of her shoulder.

He came to his knees quickly and stripped off the condom methodically, dropping it on the floor as he reached for another one. He tore the foil with his teeth, wiped himself on her thigh, and swiftly rolled it on. He plunged back into her, still hard and beyond any coherent thought. He pounded into her again and again, grunting with satisfaction each time he saw his body disappear inside hers.

The animal had full control now. It knew enough to know touching her bare skin was the fastest way back to its prison. It had watched and learned and waited an eternity for this moment. He was louder now, making no effort to contain his groans and grunts of pleasure. Her soft cries rose with his as the pressure inside her built slowly with each wild thrust. The animal might have had control, but Marie knew he was at least partially aware of her, of who she was to him, because he kept growling one word over and over.

"Mine."

"I am yours, Logan. Yours. And you're mine, always." She touched his face tenderly and he roughly pinned her hands above her head once more. His teeth locked on her shoulder a second time as he stilled and then exploded into motion with a series of short erratic thrusts, straining hard against her as another release scorched him from the inside out.

Marie winced as he bit her again. She could tell from the sting that now accompanied the throbbing that he'd broken the skin this time. It felt good. The thought made her smile. She wanted to wear his mark. A physical symbol of what he felt for her, of how wild she could make him.

Again he pulled away only long enough to grab a new condom and drop the old one over the side of the bed before he was on her again. The cycle repeated. Another release. Another hard bite. Another condom. There was a little discomfort now, but not any real pain, thanks to the last of his mutation as it faded from her body. Marie pulled him closer, instinctively knowing he needed this as much as she had needed time to grow up.

Even though he wasn't trying to please her now, each thrust of his body against hers pushed her higher, closer to that place where the confines of her own body had no meaning, where she existed only as waves of fire breaking around him. Where she was no longer Marie and he was no longer Logan, they were only two parts of the same whole. She stroked his arms and face and whispered to him of her love and her desire for the things he was doing to her body.

He let her touch him now without pinning her hands. Maybe it was because he'd ceased to notice the soft brushes of her hands, lost as he was in the animal's grasp. The growling was fierce, almost feral, as he desperately rocked against her, laying his scent and his claim upon her flesh, imprinting himself on her so that there would never be any doubt that she was his in every way.

Marie knew, now, this is what he'd been afraid would happen in the forest, yet he'd managed to hold on to his control long enough to make her first time truly unforgettable. Even though he was rough, he wasn't hurting her and she'd never once been afraid. She could have ended this at any time with a simple touch if she'd wanted to. She winced as his teeth found her shoulder yet again, wanting to lock her to him while he claimed her in the most primal of ways.

She had spoken words of love to the man. Now it was time to talk to the animal in a language he would understand. She did not intend to be left behind again when he found release. Slowly, she ran her hands up over the corded muscles of his arms and up the back of his neck. She gently threaded her hands in his hair and then suddenly she pulled sharply, dragging his mouth from her abused shoulder.

He growled at her, but she only pulled harder forcing his head up and baring his throat to her. With a growl of her own, she sank her teeth in his shoulder hard enough to break the skin. The connection opened for an instant and she pulled away panting heavily. Something wild and uncontrollable burned through her, bringing them both to the edge.

Marie let go of his hair and it was Logan's dazed eyes, not the feral ones of the Wolverine that met hers. Their bodies were slick with sweat and even Logan's powerful muscles ached with the strain.

"Take me with you this time, sugar."

"God, baby." He slid a hand under her hips and pulled her up against him as he thrust into her as deeply as he could. The pleasure was so intense it bordered on agony. Marie's legs tightened around his waist and she arched against him in ecstasy. He buried his face in her neck and her fingernails raked furrows into his back as their combined release scorched them both to ashes.

Logan nearly collapsed against her but remembered at the last moment that she probably couldn't support his full weight comfortably with all the metal inside of him. He used the last of his strength to ease himself from her gently. Still dazed, he lay next to her, his chest heaving and his mind foggy. He knew something that shouldn't have happened had happened, but he was too disoriented and satiated for anything to make much sense.

He'd never felt like this. Never. Complete. Sated. At peace.

She stripped the condom from him and dropped it over the side of the bed to join the others on the floor. He pulled her down next to him, wrapping his arm protectively around her before pulling her back against his chest. Brushing her hair aside, he pressed a tender kiss against the nape of her neck before murmuring softly as sleep claimed him, "Love you, kid."

Marie snuggled against him, loving the feel of his arm thrown over her possessively. She entwined her fingers with his and sleepily mumbled one word as a satisfied smiled teased the corner of her lips. "Mine."

* * *

 


	20. Repercussions

Logan woke slowly as the first gray light of dawn filtered through the frosty window. Still in that hazy place between dreams and consciousness, he kept his eyes closed, afraid if he opened them the dream would end and the soft warm body beside him would vanish like smoke in the wind, leaving him alone in his bed, aching for a woman he'd only ever had in his dreams.

There was something different this morning. Waking up to a dream about Marie wasn't unusual for him. Images of her regularly haunted his dreams, torturing him with forbidden erotic possibilities. His body was heavy with his need for her. Again, nothing new. Only this morning the dream wasn't fading. In fact, this morning the dream had hair that tickled his chest and a soft, curvaceous body that stole the covers.

As the last vestiges of sleepy haze cleared from his mind, he opened his eyes and smiled into the predawn light. He could feel her warm body pressed against him and he felt the even rise and fall of her chest under his arm. She was on her side with the covers pulled to her chin and her hair spread across his pillow and chest. He was also on his side, spooned against her back with his arm draped possessively over her.

_Yeah, I could definitely get usedta this._

He lay there, awed by the depth of their love and that the body he was curled around was finally real. A sense of wonder filled him so completely that his skin felt too small to contain it. God, he loved her.

_My wife._

_Mine._

And last night... last night had been... He shook his head. He didn't think any words could describe what last night had been.

Some of it was a little fuzzy in his memory, but from the way he felt this morning and the scent of satisfaction that still hung heavy in the air, he knew it had been good. He smiled smugly and inhaled again.

_Real good._

He leaned forward and kissed Marie on the back of her shoulder. She sighed and shifted to her back. His teeth flashed wickedly as he slowly tugged the covers down, exposing her to his gaze.

The sight that met his eyes couldn't have shocked him more. A physical blow wouldn't have been any more painful.

_Bruises._

_Oh, Jesus._

_She has bruises._

Not just faint ones, but angry vivid bruises around her wrists and hips. Far beyond the average run of the mill love marks. He looked down at his hands in shame... and then her hair slid to the side revealing her shoulder as she snuggled into him. He shifted uncomfortably, not quite believing his eyes. Her shoulder was covered in ugly purple bruises and he could count at least four distinctive sets of teeth marks that had broken the skin.

_What have I done?_

He searched his memories of last night trying to understand what had happened. There had been kissing and touching and it had been indescribable. He remembered wanting to make it good for her first and as he thought harder, he remembered her flying apart under him, her hands holding him tight and her body clenching rhythmically around him. That's when it got hazy. Right after he'd let go and surrendered to...

_Oh, Jesus._

_Right after I let go and let the animal..._

His mouth tasted like ash and tears burned at the back of his eyes. The urge to run was overwhelming.

She was the only beautiful thing he'd ever had in his life. The only one he'd ever cared about and he'd broken her, crushed her under his boot like a broken flower. Guilt and remorse ate at him. He was an animal.

_Stupid ruttin' beast._

_Animal._

_Monster._

He didn't deserve to have her. He didn't deserve to have anyone.

He closed his eyes, unable to look at what he'd done to her any longer. It didn't help. The image was there, burned into his mind. To his horror, he felt his eyes fill and hot tears slid from under his lashes. It took a fucking lot to make him cry, but seeing all those ugly marks marring her alabaster skin, and knowing that he was the one who put them there was too much. How could he have let this happen? Why did he ever listen to her whispered pleas to let the last of his control go?

He felt a moment of panic when he realized that if she was bruised this badly on the outside that she might be hurt far worse on the inside.

_But then why would she still be here lyin' next to me? Why hasn't she left?_

She stirred against him as his body grew tense beside hers.

"Sugar?"

He felt an icy stab of fear, wondering what she was going to say when she saw the marks he'd left on her, but he was even more afraid of the marks he couldn't see. She had to be able to feel them. Anything that looked like that had to be painful. Too ashamed to speak, he waited for her to say something to him.

Alarmed by the look on his face, the tension in his body, and the hot tears seeping from his closed eyes, Marie was afraid he regretted marrying her now that he knew what intimacy would be like between them. Maybe last night hadn't been enough for him. Maybe he wanted more than she could give him. Maybe he wanted someone he could touch skin to skin. She had to know. She swallowed her pride and asked him.

"Are you sorry?" That was all she could get out, but the rest of the thought finished in her head. _Are you sorry you married someone you can't really touch?_

_Am I sorry? Christ. What kinda animal does she think I am?_

He felt a strange sort of satisfaction in the fact that her body carried his mark because it claimed her as his. Proof that last night hadn't been just another of his dreams. Just as quickly as that thought came, he pushed it away, disgusted with himself for taking even the slightest satisfaction in what he'd done to her.

"I've never been sorrier in my life," he said brokenly.

So it was true. Hearing him say the words hurt worse than she could have imagined. If he'd pushed his claws through her heart it couldn't have hurt more. She pulled back into herself, her heart withering in her chest, feeling cold and dead and empty inside.

Logan watched the light slowly die from her eyes. He could feel her pulling away from him. It hurt more than he ever thought possible, like some vital part of him was being ripped away. There had to be something he could do to repair the damaged he'd caused. "I can fix it."

_What did he mean he could fix it? Was he going to leave?_

There was no record of their marriage. He could just leave and nobody would ever know that he'd belonged to her for one magical night. Nobody would ever know that she'd held the animal in her arms and loved that part of him as much as she'd loved the man.

"What?"

"I can fix it," he said again. "They'll heal. All of 'em." _Even the bite marks, darlin' I promise._

"Them?" She asked, confused now. "What are you talking about?"

"Them. You know... the, uh, bruises. I'm so sorry, darlin', I didn't mean to be so rough. But I can fix 'em if you just let me touch you... " His voice trailed off at the look on her face.

"Oh, God. Oh my God! I thought you meant... " She swallowed hard, not wanting to voice that fear out loud. "You said you were sorry and then - and then... " She floundered, willing him to understand what she couldn't bring herself to say.

Understanding dawned. _Oh, Jesus. She thought I didn't want her._

"God, darlin', never that. Never. That was so good. Best night I've ever had. I'm just sorry I fucked it up. Hurtin' you…"

"Oh, sugar...come here." She opened her arms to him.

He laid his head on her chest, careful of the bare skin on her face, and he cradled her to him. Quietly, as dawn broke over them, he poured his heart out to her, telling her what she meant to him. That she was his snow, that she'd saved him, that he loved her and how sorry he was for hurting her. He knew she needed the words and somehow they came to him so he could tell her and make her understand. Nothing could ever make him leave her, not his past, not her skin, not the disapproval of their peers.

Nothing.

Ever.

It was then that they truly became mates, a joining of hearts as well as flesh.

Marie held him in her arms, listening to his words and felt her heart lift, awed by his tenderness and the depth of his feelings. When he was finished, she spoke, telling him how she felt and of her fears and how much she loved him. Lastly, she spoke of the marks he'd left on her, how her skin had always bruised easily and that it looked much worse than it felt. She told him more, blushing now. She told him how she really felt about him marking her. That she liked it, that somewhere inside her the primal part of her had a need to be claimed by him just as the primal part of him had a need to claim her.

Logan understood completely. For years he wished that he too could be marked, that his skin wouldn't just heal them so quickly, like they'd never been there in the first place. Sometimes he longed for a reminder that someone had wanted him, if only for a little while, that it all just wasn't some dream he'd concocted to keep the demons at bay another night. He wanted to carry the proof on his skin that he, too, could be wanted and desired, that he was more than just an animal, a thing built for one purpose alone; the delivery of pain.

He understood her fear of being unlovable too. He shared it. He held her hands in his, each of them deadly in their own way, his housing razor sharp claws and hers capable of draining life with a touch. He softly kissed both of her deadly hands and pressed them to his heart. He was more than just a mindless animal. He was a man too. He felt love and tenderness and hurt just as deeply as any other man.

In the warm glow of the dawn, Logan slowly, reverently, made love to her, showing her with his touch how deeply he cared for her. He worshiped her with his body, filling both her mind and her body as tenderly as he could. He kissed her bare mouth gently, giving her both his healing gift and his feelings of love, and watched with both joy and a touch of sadness as his marks faded from her skin.

Marie was drowning in the sensations he created within her and still he pushed her higher. When the storm broke around them and they were shuddering against each other, he was unable to stop his teeth from again finding her shoulder, but this time it was the bite of a man, not an animal, and Marie was glad because she hadn't wanted him to take all the evidence of his touch from her body.

When it was over and they had both returned to their bodies, he let Marie remove the condom from him, reveling in the intimacy of that simple act. She dropped it with the others and wiped the remaining wetness from him gently with the sheet before picking up the square of black silk. Marie spread it over his chest to protect him from the skin of her cheek and she laid her head against his heart, replete. Logan closed his eyes, content to fall asleep with his arms cradling his wife against him.

An hour later, the sound of heavy footsteps in the hall woke Logan. He smiled, seeing that Marie had rolled to her side and had once again stolen most of the covers. He rolled to snuggle himself against her, putting his back to the door and readjusting the blanket so it covered them both. The footsteps in the hall got louder and stopped outside his room.

That was all the warning he got before the door swung open.

_What the ever lovin' fuck?_

He was going to have to remember to start locking that door from now on. He usually did, but last night his arms had been full of Marie and he'd had more pressing things on his mind. There was only one person stupid enough to barge into the Wolverine's room uninvited. Logan rolled over and sat up on one elbow, effectively shielding Marie from Scott's view.

"This better be a goddamn emergency, Summers, 'cause if it ain't, you're in a world of hurt, bub. I distinctly remember tellin' you yesterday to get the fuck outta my room."

"It is an emergency. Marie is missing. I went to her room to talk to her this morning about what happened yesterday and the stuff from her pack was dumped all over her bed. It was still made so she had to have left sometime last night." Scott finished hastily, hoping that Logan would know where she was. Something was very wrong here, but his worry over Marie was foremost in his mind, blinding him to everything else. "The drawers were still open like she left in a hurry and..."

His voice trailed off as he looked at Logan, _really_ looked.

There was an unmistakable scent of sex in the air and clothes strewn all over the floor of Logan's usually immaculate room, not to mention an unbelievably obscene amount of condoms on the floor by the bed. Disgusting. Scott felt his lip curl in distaste. He really was an animal.

"You asshole." Scott ground out furiously. "I guess all that stuff you said yesterday was just a bunch of lies. Is that why Marie ran? She catch you with another woman?" Scott was seething.

Logan snarled. "Careful, bub, before you say somethin' you can't take back." The lump under the covers behind Logan moved, drawing Scott's attention. The lump mumbled something he couldn't quite catch, but he noticed the tips of Logan's ears turned red. No small feat considering in his world everything was a shade of red to some degree.

Something was still wrong, besides the obvious. Logan was far too smug. He looked around again wondering what he had missed in his haste to inform Logan that Marie was missing... and then he saw it, Marie's scarf on the floor... under Logan's belt.

"YOU GODDAMN BASTARD!" Scott roared.

_{Jean! JEAN! You better get in here right now. I think I'm going to kill Logan!}_ He shouted mentally at his wife, half hoping Jean wouldn't get here in time to keep him from blasting Logan.

Scott was furious. When he'd left here yesterday after acknowledging their relationship, he'd had no idea things would end up this way. He hadn't even considered this as a possibility.

_How the hell had they managed to... ? God, never mind. I don't want to know._

One of the reasons he hadn't minded was because he never thought this could happen considering the severity of Marie's mutation. He should have known that Logan would find some way around it.

_That asshole. That goddamn cradle-robbing asshole._

"You just couldn't keep your hands off her could you? I can't believe you fuc-"

"Watch it, Slick. That's my _wife_ you're talkin' about."

_Holy shit, his wife? {JEAN!}_

Scott stared at them dumbfounded. That bit of information didn't make things better at all. In fact, to his way of thinking, it made things worse. Much, much worse. It meant that he couldn't kill Logan no matter how much he wanted to. And he did. God, he did. He wanted nothing left of Logan but a smoking crater.

Marie's sleep tousled head appeared behind Logan's shoulder. She was blushing, but smiling a deep smile that touched her eyes, and if he wasn't mistaken she had a rather vivid love bite on her shoulder. Scott's anger flared again. _Ugh. Too much information._ He grimaced. There were some things he just did not need to know and Logan's lovemaking habits were pretty high up on that list.

Scott felt the brush of Jean's mind in his as she appeared at the door. Both of them stared wide-eyed at the couple on the bed. Marie had slid her arm under Logan's and their fingers were intertwined, both their rings clearly visible in the bright morning light.

_{Married? Scott, what's going on here?}_ Jean was surprised, but not shocked.

_{That bastard married her, Jean. I can't believe it.}_ Scott was at a loss for words.

"Mornin', Red." Logan called from his reclined position. "I don't suppose you could drag One-Eye, here, back to your room? I'm a little busy right now." Logan smirked and Scott barely managed to contain the impulse to blast him.

Far more calm than her irate husband, Jean's glance over the room missed nothing. Her eyes widened at the number of condoms and empty foil packets that littered the floor by the bed, like so many dead leaves.

_Lucky Rogue._

She flushed at that thought and her words came back to haunt her, 'uncharted regenerative capabilities'. Well, she had always wondered if that applied to-

"Red?" Logan's voice startled her out of her musings. Jean blushed, knowing everyone saw where she was looking. Logan smirked again and Scott looked ready to explode.

"I, uh... we... " Always so carefully poised, her awkward bumbling was a sight to behold. Jean swallowed and recovered gracefully. "Congratulations, Logan, Rogue." She smiled pleasantly, reaching for Scott's arm. "We'll leave the two of you alone. I'm sure you'd like some privacy." Logan knew she'd said that for Scott's benefit, not theirs.

"Damn straight." Logan growled and Marie blushed prettily from behind his shoulder.

"It is kinda our honeymoon, y'all," Marie added softly. Logan smiled, loving the way Marie's accent got stronger when she was flustered.

Scott looked like he was going to resist, but Jean only smiled. Logan could tell she was talking to him telepathically. Scott's jaw tightened and he blushed to the roots of his hair before turning on his heel and leaving without a word. Any other time, Logan would have given his right arm to know what Jean had said to make Scott blush like that, but right now he was just glad Scott was gone without further incident.

"Thanks Jeannie." _{Really, thanks, Jeannie. I didn't want to hafta...}_

_{I know, Logan. It's okay. He'll come around eventually. It's a little surprising, but everyone will adjust in time, and don't worry, we won't say anything. You can tell everyone when you're ready.}_

"You're welcome, Logan, Rogue." She looked at them one last time. "I'm happy for you both." And this time she meant it. It was clear to her now that they belonged together as much as she and Scott did. She closed the door softly behind her as she left.

Scott was waiting for her in the hall with his arms crossed over his chest. He glared at her as she turned around.

_{Jean.}_

It was a good thing his wife could read minds because he knew he'd never be able to force even a single word through his clenched teeth.

_{Scott.}_

She smiled guiltily at her husband. Judging by the set of his jaw, perhaps the quickest way to get him to leave the room hadn't exactly been the most prudent.

_{That was a low blow, Jean.}_

He was advancing on her. She'd sent him a mental flood of images from their first night together and he'd blushed, not because of what he'd seen, but because of how his body had reacted to the images. He was still furious with Logan, but Jean's little refresher course on how impulsive they, too, had been their first time had tempered his anger somewhat. Tequila had been involved. They'd broken a chair. In a pool. And then things had really gotten interesting.

_{Would you deny them the same happiness we found, Scott?}_ The look on Jean's face was serious now.

He thought about it a minute and then his shoulders slumped in defeat. _{No.}_

_{I didn't think so.}_ She smiled at him. _{You really are the best of men, Scott Summers. I love you.}_ She gave him a quick kiss before turning to go.

He grabbed her hand. _{Where do you think you're going, honey?}_

_{To the lab. I have a mountain of paperwork waiting for me.}_

Scott's hand was already turning the knob on the door to their room. _{You can do that later, babe.}_ The smile on his face was absolutely wicked. Jean shivered.

_{Scott, we couldn't possibly... }_

_After that little display? I think not. {How wrong you are, Jean. We can, and we are.}_ Jean giggled. Scott pulled her inside, still grinning like a wild man, and he slammed the door, firmly flipping the latch in place.

Back in his room, Logan suppressed a laugh as he heard Jean giggle and then their door slam. Hopefully, she'd keep Scott out of his hair for a while. He turned over to look at Marie.

"Morning, sugar." She grinned at him saucily.

"Don't you, 'mornin', sugar' me, darlin'." He growled at her playfully. "You're gonna hafta pay for that."

"Pay for what?" She said giving him her best innocent girl look. Logan only stared and quirked one eyebrow at her.

"You know damn well, 'what'."

"Stealing your covers?" she teased.

"Nope. Try again."

"Pinching your ass while Scott was yelling at you?"

"You're gettin' warmer."

Marie pretended to think about it. "Well it couldn't be that." Marie laughed. "It couldn't be making you blush in front of Scott, now could it?" She couldn't quite keep the naughty smile from her face.

"Bingo."

"I couldn't resist," she snickered. "He just looked so shocked." _And envious._ She smiled wider as she recalled her rashly whispered words. 'He's probably never seen so many used condoms in one place at one time before... I know I haven't.' She'd watched as the back of his neck and the tips of his ears had turned a dull red. He really was so much fun to tease. "Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

"Nope." His smile was pure evil.

"Good. 'Cause I'm not." She said tartly as she scrambled away from him.

He caught her easily and rolled her under him, enjoying her playful squeak of protest. "And this... " He said fingering the bodystocking casually. "This I like. A lot." He kissed and nipped a path down her neck. "A whole lot."

"Umm…." She smiled. With him pressed against her so intimately she could feel just how much he liked it. "Did I mention I ordered a black one too?" _Oh yeah, sugar. Little shiver and a slow grind. He's definitely liking that._

_Black? God help me. She's gonna be the death of me yet._

"You're a wicked woman, darlin', truly wicked." He kissed her neck again and pulled back. "But first things first." He rolled away and stood up.

Marie watched him, fully appreciating her first look at her naked husband in the daylight. His body was beautiful. Leashed power and flawless skin over rippling muscles, like someone had breathed life into Michelangelo's David. She propped her chin up on one hand and watched him stretch. _Okay, Michelangelo's David with claws and sticky-up hair._ His hair stuck up even more than usual this morning, but she figured that was her fault, seeing has how it had been her fingers playing in it most of the night.

While she appreciated his well-developed chest, she'd seen him without his shirt plenty of times over the last year... but without pants in streaming sunlight was a definite first. Her eyes followed that line of hair down his chest, across his washboard stomach, all the way down to the dark tangle of hair at his groin. His penis hung heavily between his muscular thighs, swinging slightly as he moved and she just couldn't help but staring a little... okay, staring a lot.

_God, he's beautiful._

He yawned and dropped his arms from his catlike stretch. He chuckled softly.

"Like whatcha see, darlin'? 'Cause I sure as hell like the way you look all tangled in our sheets."

"I sure do, sugar. You make my mouth water."

He chuckled. That was pure Rogue, right there.

"Just your mouth?"

"Why don't you come back over here and find out?" Her voice held a very suggestive invitation that certain parts of him were very interested in.

He rolled his neck and shoulders before padding silently to the door and flipping the lock with a loud click. He glared nastily at the door. _There, that should keep Summers out._ He wouldn't put it past that dick to interrupt them again just for the hell of it.

Marie was still enjoying the view. _Damn, he has a nice ass._ When her gaze finally made it above his waist she gasped, flushing slightly. "Oh my God, Logan, your back!"

"What?" He turned around and Marie's flush got darker.

"And your shoulder too."

Logan looked down at his shoulder and was shocked to see a purple bruise complete with a set of Marie sized teeth marks. He turned his eyes to Marie and smirked. "I guess I'm a marked man now, darlin'." He said, trying to make light of it, but he could smell her anxiety and he was a little unsettled himself. Not afraid, just... curious and perhaps a bit apprehensive. He wasn't exactly used to having something wrong with his body that didn't heal immediately.

"Logan, be serious. Why didn't it heal? Is something wrong with your, uh, gift?"

"Dunno. Let's find out." Before she could stop him, he released his claws and retracted them just as quickly, watching with bemused interest as the cuts on his knuckles healed themselves instantly. "Seems to be workin' just fine."

"Give me a heart attack why dontcha, sugar." _That would have been a hell of a way to find out your gift wasn't working._ Marie decided against reading him the riot act. He was the Wolverine after all.

"Heh."

"So why haven't they healed?" she asked.

"They?" He cocked an eyebrow at her. This was gonna be fun.

"Uh, yeah, your shoulder and, well, your back has some, um... scratches on it too."

"Scratches?" Logan quirked an eyebrow at her and grinned. "And they think I'm an animal," he teased.

_Yep, here it comes._

He watched her blush again.

_Heh, I love doin' that._

Come to think of it, his back had felt a little strange this morning, but he'd had far more pleasant things occupying his mind.

Even though Marie was blushing, she shot him a naughty grin. "Careful now, sugar. You aren't the only one in here sporting a love bite," she teased, lightly rubbing her hand across her shoulder.

Logan laughed and watched her eyes watch him as he crossed the room and came to sit next to her on the bed.

"Has that ever happened before?" Marie asked quietly.

"No."

_First time for me, darlin'._

He wasn't sure how or why she'd been able to leave a mark when nobody else ever had, but then again Marie had always had a way of touching him that made him feel marked, inside and out. That she could leave a mark on him with a touch must have something to do with her mutation. That was the only thing he could think of to explain it.

Whatever the reason, he was glad, but he chose not to share his theory with Marie. She was apprehensive enough already about touching people. If she thought she might hurt him, she could very well stop touching him all together and there was no way in hell he was going to let that happen.

"We can have Jean look at it later, darlin'. Right now we have more important things to do." His eyes glittered and he reached for her.

"What kind of things?" As Marie asked her stomach growled and Logan smiled knowingly.

"Shower first, then breakfast." Healing factors tended to use up a huge amount of energy and both of them had reaped the benefits of Logan's healing factor last night. Repeatedly.

_He's not kidding. I don't think I've ever been this hungry in my life except for that time in his truck._ She looked over at Logan's naked body sprawled on the bed. _At least for food, anyway._

Logan saw the way she looked at him. He could practically feel her eyes on his body. He grabbed Marie's hand and pulled her to her feet. She recognized the gleam in his eyes immediately.

"How hungry are you, darlin'?"

"I can wait," she said as she pulled her husband toward the shower.

The wildness in her was still so strong. Logan was surprised when she pulled him down on the thick bathroom rug and rode him uninhibitedly to a loud climax that echoed in the small space. It shocked and aroused them both. The animal rose to her call, answering his mate's primal response to him.

Not to be outdone, he took her in the shower, her back pressed up against the tile and her arms clinging around his thick neck. The second time, he took her from behind; her chest shoved up against the cold tile and her little hands scrambling for purchase when he thrust hard enough to lift her heels from the shower floor. He came with a roar, emptying into her shuddering body. Her face was transcendent; a mix of joy and pleasure and lust. They collapsed afterwards, letting the hot spray rinse away the evidence of their exertions and playing like children, and then like adults, as they slowly washed each other with gentle hands.

It was a long time before Marie and Logan finally emerged from the bathroom, freshly washed and dressed, still pink cheeked from their exertions and starving hungry.

Logan opened the door and found a silver breakfast tray on the floor in the hall just outside his door. It was heaped with an assortment of food and when he picked it up he discovered a crisp white envelope underneath it. He picked that up too and carried them both back inside.

Marie's eyes widened and her stomach growled again at the sight of all that luscious food. Logan handed her the envelope while he brought the tray to the bed and began to set up the food picnic style on top of the mussed covers.

Marie opened the envelope and read the card out loud while Logan finished setting out the food. "To Logan, I'm so glad you finally found what you were looking for." Logan stopped setting out the food and looked up at Marie who continued to read. "And to Marie, who despite her gift has truly touched us all. Best wishes, Charles."

"How sweet," Marie said softly, touched by his words.

Logan only smiled. _{Thanks, Chuck.}_

_{You're welcome, Logan. I wish the two of you every happiness.}_

Logan turned his attention back to Marie. "I guess you can't hide anything from a telepath," Logan mused as he watched his pretty young wife cross the room and sit on the bed.

"No, you sure can't." She said with a wink and a laugh as she reached for the honey.

* * *

 


	21. Surprises

It was late in the afternoon before Logan and Marie could tear themselves away from each other long enough to make an appearance in the lab. Jean was more than a little surprised to see them, all things considered.

"Hey, Red, got a minute?" Logan asked, looking decidedly ill at ease.

Jean's glance moved from him to Rogue. Logan's hand was at her back and she had two high spots of color on her cheeks. Jean immediately slipped into her placid doctor persona.

"Is something wrong, Rogue?" If anything, the color on Rogue's cheeks darkened.

"It's not me. It's Logan. I... that is we... ummm... " Her voice trailed off as Logan gave her a squeeze.

Jean hid her surprise as best she could and turned to address Logan. She couldn't possibly imagine what kind of medical attention he might require.

"I think you should take a look at this, Jean." With his usual nonchalance, Logan stripped off his flannel and pulled his t-shirt off over his head.

Jean's eyes widened and Marie's face flamed as he first showed her his shoulder and then, with some reluctance and a smirk, his back. She managed to suppress her smile for Rogue's sake. Such marks weren't uncommon. As a matter of fact Scott happened to have a set of scratches that looked remarkably similar.

_Focus Jean._

"I see," Jean said with clinical objectiveness. "Aside from these two... abrasions," her voice hesitated for just an instant. "Is your healing factor still working normally?"

"Yeah," he said flatly, refusing to give Jean the satisfaction of acknowledging her little slip.

Jean nodded to herself as she probed the bite mark. She must have hit a tender spot because Logan sucked in is breath and glared at her.

"I didn't hurt him, did I?" Marie asked quietly.

"Not if my hunch is correct, Rogue." Jean reached for some antiseptic and Logan's eyes narrowed warily. "Were you wearing gloves when you touched him?" Jean asked as she squirted some of the sharp smelling solution on a cotton ball and turned to Logan.

"Yes, I was."

Jean thought for a moment while she swabbed the bite mark with the cotton ball. Logan's breath hissed through his teeth.

_Fuck! What the hell did she put on that thing, battery acid? 'Cause that's what it fuckin' feels like._

Jean was enjoying this far too much, but he owed her for dragging One-Eye out of their room earlier, so he shut his mouth and took it like a man until she ran that damn cotton ball down the scratches on his back.

"Christ, Jeannie!" He exclaimed. He'd seen Scott with those kinds of scratches dozens of times when they were changing into their uniforms. _I bet she doesn't rub that battery acid shit on him._ And then understanding dawned. Scott must have told her what he'd said about being able to fuck her if he wanted to when he'd first come to the school.

_Shit._

He looked her in the eye and knew he was right.

"We done now, Jean?" His double meaning was clear to her and she nodded brusquely.

_{Sorry, Red. I know that comment was outta line. It's not like you actually tried to-}_

She cut him off. _{I forgive you, Logan, but if I ever hear another word about it... }_ She picked up the antiseptic bottle warningly. Logan got the message loud and clear.

While they had been talking Jean had been mulling the problem over in her head.

"Rogue, you said you were wearing gloves," Jean waited for Rogue's nod. "A pair of your regular ones?"

"No, a different pair."

"Thinner than your usual ones?" If her guess was right.

"Yes, a lot thinner. Sheer." Rogue offered, still flushing a bit. The gloves were little more than gossamer and air. Rougher on the skin than the satin ones that she knew Logan liked the best, but she could feel more with the sheer ones.

"I couldn't be sure without running some tests first, but I believe I have the answer," Jean said as Logan put his shirts back on and pulled Marie back into his arms.

"Every time someone touches something, a bit of cellular material is left behind. In your case, I believe that the live cells Rogue leaves behind are retarding your healing factor in some way. Not permanently, of course." Jean rushed on, seeing the color drain from Rogue's face. "There is already evidence of healing on your shoulder. A normal human rate of healing," Jean hastened to add.

Logan nodded and Rogue looked slightly less pasty.

"I would imagine that given the normal amount of cellular residue in an average touch, that your body should heal at approximately the same rate as any normal human might. Of course, if Rogue were to wear thicker gloves or refrain from any direct... oral contact... " That little hesitation was back. "That would minimize the amount of live cells transferred. With such precautions limiting the transfer of live cells, and the nature of your regenerative capabilities, most likely any further marks would heal as they normally would."

"So, you're saying the thinner the glove the more damage I'm gonna cause?" Marie's voice was tight.

"Only if you break the skin, Rogue, and even then he will still heal. Just at a slightly slower rate than he is accustom to." Jean smiled at the couple. "Do you have any more questions?"

Marie shook her head.

"Nah, Red. I think we're good to go." Logan grinned at Marie, who still smelled nervous to him. He pulled her close and said something softly against her ear. Jean saw the look of nervousness disappear from Rogue's face and a sweet blush take its place. Jean turned away, busying herself putting away the antiseptic and making some notes in Logan's medical record.

"Thanks, Jeannie." Logan called over his shoulder as they left the lab.

As Jean turned back to Logan's chart, she heard the muffled thud of a body being pressed up against the wall with force. Her mouth turned up in amusement.

_Newlyweds._

**~oOo~**

Once back in their room, Logan was reluctant to let her go. He sat down in his favorite chair and pulled her down onto his lap. Her hand was toying with one of the buttons on his shirt and she wouldn't look at him. He could tell she was still a little apprehensive about touching him.

For as much as he knew he should talk to her about that, the simple fact that she was on his lap, wearing gloves, was making talking difficult at best. She was wearing her black opera length gloves. His favorites. Having her so close wearing those gloves was playing hell with his sanity.

While he liked - no _loved_ \- the sheer bodystocking she'd bought, when she wore it she looked naked. Which definitely wasn't a bad thing... It was just that in most of his fantasies of her, even the ones where she could touch, she usually wore gloves.

_Those_ gloves.

Those silky black opera length gloves and nothing else. He closed his eyes and let out a low, "Ummm." He slid his hands down her body to her hips and pushed them down against his lap.

"What are you thinking about, sugar?"

He didn't open his eyes and the pressure of his hands on her hips increased. "You."

"Yeah?" She wiggled in his lap and he stifled a groan.

He caught her hand and pressed his lips to her palm before placing it over his marked shoulder. "Thank you, darlin'," he rasped quietly.

"For what?"

"For bein' able to touch me on the outside as much as you do on the inside."

"Oh, Logan," she breathed softly. Any remaining apprehension she might have had about touching him melted away.

"I never thought I'd have that, baby." His hips were moving slowly under hers now. The friction of her supple curves against his straining erection was slowly driving him mad. "Never." He punctuated that sentiment with a slow roll of his hips that left them both gasping.

"I want to touch you, Logan." Marie admitted softly. He nodded, swallowing hard, still keeping his eyes closed. His head was tilted back, baring the long line of his throat to her. She stroked it with one gloved fingertip and watched with fascination as he shuddered.

"Just let me get my bodystocking and-"

"No." His hands caught her wrists. His eyes were open now and glittering.

"But... "

"No. Just the gloves."

"My skin... "

"Look at me, Marie. I'm covered." He reached over and grabbed his gloves from the dresser and put them on. "Completely."

Marie's gaze missed nothing, not the plea in his eyes, or the fact that along with the gloves he'd also grabbed the square of black silk and left it draped over his thigh in sensual invitation.

"Do this for me, darlin'." His voice was soft and low. It was as close to begging as the proud Wolverine would come. "I wanna see you."

Marie knew what her gloves did to him. She'd seen a number of his fantasies first hand when they touched and her skin had pulled them from him. She stood up slowly and gave him a deliciously wicked smile.

"Just the gloves," he rasped again, shifting in the chair at the slow, heavy feeling of arousal.

She knelt before him gracefully and unzipped each of her boots slowly, drawing them off and stripping away her socks. As she came to stand before him again, he sucked in a breath. He shook with the effort to stay seated in the chair and let Marie go at her own pace.

Her belt went next as it landed on the floor with a muffled thud. It echoed in the thick silence that until now had only been broken by the harsh sound of his breathing. He'd seen countless women strip before, but none had ever affected him like this. It wasn't a show or an act. There was no artifice in her movements, only innocence and a desire to stand naked before him simply because he'd asked her to.

Well, that, and the desire to drive him out of his goddamn mind.

Their eyes met as her hands caught on the hem of her shirt. She stopped and quirked an eyebrow at him. He growled at her and she smirked as her hands began moving again, drawing the shirt up one maddening inch at a time. Teasing him with exaggerated slowness as the ribbon of skin revealed to him became wider. Navel, flat stomach, ribs, breasts prettily displayed in black satin...

He would have seen her slow smile, but his eyes had stopped moving upward the second her breasts had come into view. _Sweet Christ._ His mouth was actually watering. Staying in the chair was getting harder and harder, but he wouldn't rush this, her first taste of the power she wielded over his body. He had the distinct impression he was going to be sorry he taught her this particular lesson so well.

His hand slipped down his body to adjust his aching erection and lingered a moment to rub at the heaviness that had settled between his legs. Her eyes dilated as she watched his hand.

"Like that, do ya, darlin'?"

"Yes. It makes me so hot."

He rubbed harder and watched with satisfaction as her eyes darkened and she made a soft noise deep in her throat.

As if in answer to his unspoken challenge, she cupped her breasts and squeezed lightly before skimming her hands down her stomach to her jeans. The soft purr of her zipper had him gritting his teeth. He panted when she slipped a hand inside to touch herself.

"Jesus, Marie. You're killin' me here."

"I'm sure trying, sugar." That teasing, naughty look was back now as she tested the power she had over him.

Her jeans joined the pile of clothing growing at her feet and he felt his blood pressure climb dangerously. She swayed enticingly in front of him as she undressed, surprised and pleased that such a simple act, one she'd preformed a thousand times, alone, could affect him so keenly.

With no hesitation, she slipped off the last two scraps of black satin and stood before him beautifully bare, save for her long black gloves.

He'd never seen that much of her bare skin before as a prelude to sex. It did strange things to his insides, a feeling not unlike the slow burn of well-aged whiskey. Her skin was creamy white and flawless, like a fresh snowfall. The deep black of her gloves only emphasized the stark difference in the colors. His eyes were drawn to the seam of white flesh and black satin.

Every single coherent thought fled his mind but one. What would it feel like to have those silky black gloves slide over his bare flesh?

"Touch me, baby." Low and needy, his words affected her as surely as any touch, and a heavy languorous feeling began to spread out from deep inside her.

His dark hooded eyes glittered as she closed the distance between them and came to stand in the space between his spread legs. Everything she'd ever been told about men led her to expect that his eyes would be staring at her body, at the pink upthrust of her nipples or the dark hair between her legs, but instead he seemed entranced by her gloved hands.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she reached out and cupped his stubbly jaw with one silky palm. He closed his eyes and turned his face into her touch. His powerful body trembled and in that instant, he understood how Scott had been able to open his deadly eyes that night in the Statue of Liberty, even when they'd been pointed directly at Jean. All it took to override ingrained instinct and years of training was two softly whispered words from Jean.

_Trust me._

When a man looks back over his life, there aren't too many times he can stop and say, 'this particular moment changed my life forever'. When Logan looked back over his life, over the life he could remember anyway, most of those moments involved Marie, but none of them had ever been like this.

A realization so powerful, so clear, he simply sat awestruck.

He trusted her.

He trusted her implicitly, with his life, with other people's lives. With the lives of their unborn children. Logan trusted her. The Wolverine trusted her. He realized that up until now, every time they'd talked about trust he had always been the one to ask her to trust him. Never once had she asked that of him. Not Ever.

Like an animal licking his wounds, he'd recovered from the experiments. In time he'd learned to walk among people again, but he'd never trusted a single one of them, until now.

He opened his eyes and locked them to hers. She saw something in them she'd never seen before, something she'd never expected to see.

He reached out with a shaking hand, gloved just like hers, and entwined their fingers. With a slow insistent pressure he pulled her to her knees in front of him. His other hand came up to press her palm harder against his cheek. He nuzzled it softly.

In the span of a single heartbeat, the course of his life had been changed irrevocably.

Forever.

The softness of the gesture surprised her. While she knew he loved her, the part of him that was the Wolverine was always there, and it wasn't exactly what one would call tender. But there was tenderness in his eyes now, so much so she wanted to weep for him.

He stared into her eyes, stared down to her very soul, and slowly revealed his own.

"I trust you, Marie."

The universe shrank to the reality of their simple shared space, of two hearts beating together, of two pairs of gloved hands tightly entwined. In that instant, they were closer than two touchable lovers could ever be. And she only nodded because some moments are beyond words. There is only revelation and the soul deep understanding of two people who share the same heart.

And on that winter afternoon, for a handful of precious moments, even the Wolverine knew peace.

Slowly, one kind of intimacy was exchanged for another. Marie watched as his eyes moved away from hers and slid appreciatively over her body. The tenderness in his eyes was joined by another emotion, one that quickly overtook it until his eyes were once again hot and wanting. Marie was always amazed at how quickly the sensual heat could flair between them.

She ran her hands over the rough stubble on his face and trailed black-gloved fingertips over his lips. They opened under her touch and he nipped at her playfully. She snatched her hand back and clucked her tongue at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. She wagged one black-clad finger at him.

"Patience is a virtue, sugar," she drawled, looking up at him from between his spread knees. He growled at her and her smile grew bigger. The exchange had been playful, but seeing her like that, naked and on her knees in front of him, was getting to be more than he could stand.

He closed his eyes as her hands drifted down his chest and slowly pulled his shirt free from his pants. He sucked in his breath as warm hands encased in silky black gloves slid under his shirt and skated over his flesh. His navel. His heart. Logan bit back a groan as her thumbs brushed across his nipples. He opened his eyes and watched as her lush red mouth curved into a smile.

He forced himself to remember that this was Marie, not some tawdry cage bunny. Marie, his beautiful young wife. His beautiful, young, _innocent_ wife, who probably had no clue why having her on her knees like that was so difficult for him.

One of her hands left his chest and trailed lower over the tight chiseled muscles of his stomach and down to his belt. His own hands gripped his thighs so tightly that underneath the gloves, his knuckles were white with the strain. Her nimble fingers made short work of his belt. She rubbed her hand over him the same way he had rubbed himself earlier and this time he did groan.

The tip of her tongue peeked out in concentration as she worked the button of his jeans free and then the metallic rasp of his zipper broke the silence.

It was too much.

"Marie," he warned, growling quietly as he grabbed her wrist in his powerful grip.

"Let me go, sugar," she whispered. "Let me touch you. We need this," and softer still, "I need this."

He let her go.

His every fantasy paled in comparison to the real thing as her silky black fingers closed around him and stroked lightly. His cock was like a steel bar in her hand. She took her time, playing and exploring. Watching him shudder as the silky satin of her glove slid against the velvet of his skin.

"Harder. Rougher." He was on fire.

"Show me," she demanded softly.

His larger hand covered hers, guiding her as he taught her how to please him. "Darlin', I don't think I can keep from... " His voice trailed off as her nimble fingers rendered him incapable of speech.

She grinned wickedly at him. "I hope not, sugar. I wanna make you so hot you're wild for it. And then I wanna make you come so hard you can't do anything but growl and give yourself up to me."

"Oh, _Christ_."

She leaned in and bit his stomach sharply through his t-shirt. He jerked in response and the skin of her upper arm came into contact with his stomach for one brief moment, just long enough for her skin to pull one crystal clear image from him. An image so clear, she could almost feel his hands tangled in her hair and taste him on her lips.

She pulled away abruptly, breathing hard, and rested her hands lightly on his spread knees. Her skin was flushed with desire and her eyes were glittering when they met his. "You read my mind, sugar."

"Marie, you don't have to."

"I _want_ to. I want all of you. Everything."

_Jesus._

Her fingers were back on him now, touching and stroking the thick, throbbing flesh until he thought he'd lose his mind.

"Ohfuck, Jesus. _Yesss_ …."

He shuddered and lifted his hips just enough for her to tug his jeans down slightly. The sight of her small black-gloved fingers closing around him, coupled with the knowledge of what she wanted to do to him, was almost more than he could stand.

He felt like it was his first time, or rather what he imagined his first time was like since he couldn't remember back that far. He was just so close to losing it, so close to disgracing himself, at the simple touch of her hand. Where the hell was his monumental control now? He dragged in a deep, steadying breath.

_God, if she would only..._

He couldn't wait much longer.

"Con- condom," he managed to grit out through the intense pleasure her touch was creating. Her fingers lingered at the inflamed head and a few drops leaked past her closed fist.

"No," she said softly as she reached for the square of black silk instead. "I can't taste you that way." Her voice was just a whisper now.

He very nearly came at her words.

"Fuck, yes. Oh, God. Do it."

He jerked as he felt the black silk float down and lightly come to rest on his over-sensitized skin. The edges of the silk tickled his thighs as she smoothed it over him and leaned forward, flushed and breathing hard. He tensed.

"Wait, darlin'. It's too much. I just- just need a second to... I can't... I'm gonna come."

He squeezed his eyes shut but made no move to stop her, unwilling to deny her anything.

Somehow, she seemed to understand just how to touch him without pushing him over. Instead of the touch he was expecting, she rubbed her face against him and inhaled his scent. God, the scent of him was so strong here, so primal and masculine, she wanted to drown herself in it, in him.

The brief pause was enough for him to regain his tenuous control.

"You smell so good." The words were so soft he almost didn't hear them. He could feel her warm breath teasing him through the thin gauzy silk. She pressed tiny fluttering kisses along his length and he slid his hand behind her neck, lightly rubbing his thumb along her nape as she nuzzled him, drinking in his scent. He watched her with a touch of amazement. Nobody had ever done that before. Nobody had ever wanted to touch him like that, to know his body so intimately. To give affection as well as pleasure. Just her. She alone touched him with love.

_I love you, baby. Love you so much. I-_

Without warning, the overwhelming sensation of her mouth closing around him slammed into him and she sucked the head strongly. His lips parted in a silent shout and he closed his eyes because he just couldn't watch what her sweet mouth was doing to him. Not this time. His control slipped a little farther and he bared his teeth with a mute snarl as the wet heat of her mouth fanned the flames of desire licking at him.

He could smell his own scent strongly now, and knew she could taste him through the thin silk.

His voice was rough and low. "You like it." It wasn't a question. As his own scent grew stronger, so did the scent of her arousal and the intensity of her assault on him. His blood raced under his skin and throbbed against her tongue.

He threaded his fingers in her hair and growled quietly. He could feel her smile and he couldn't stop his hips now from thrusting forward lightly. Sweat dampened his shirt and trickled down his back. His face was flushed with savage desire and his hair curled damply at his nape and temples. Logan trembled and his blood roared wildly in his ears. His heart felt like it was going to beat through his chest and he groaned hotly as her tongue tormented him.

_Christ, where the hell did she learn to do that?_

He made a choked noise as her lush moist mouth seared his aching flesh and his fingers clenched in her silky hair.

_Shit. Shit, stop... before I..._

"Stop, baby. You gotta stop... " He forced his body to still, but she kept moving. "I'm gonna-" he shuddered and fixed his hazel eyes on her mouth, "I'm gonna come," he managed to grunt out through clenched teeth.

Without taking her mouth from him, she lifted her gaze until their eyes locked. He saw what she wanted. Her fingers dug into his hips, urging him on, even as his hands tightened in her hair and he threw back his head and came with a horse shout loud enough for half the mansion to hear.

His big body bucked rhythmically beneath her and she savored the heady, wild taste of him. It struck some primal chord in her and she growled quietly. She was humbled that he would make himself so vulnerable to her, but at the same time she felt powerful. He was always so strong, so in control, so confident, she loved that she could reduce him to this. No words, no thoughts, no control. He gave himself over to her completely and trusted her to be there to pick up the pieces after she splintered him apart, and that was the sweetest part of all.

She lingered over him even after he'd stopped trembling and the world had stopped shimmering before his eyes. He was panting hard. Completely shattered.

"Mmm… that was so much, sugar. You taste so good." He was still twitching and she was giving him tender butterfly kisses, helping him come down soft and slow. "Thank you."

She was thanking _him_? Didn't that beat all? His chest warmed.

She wiped him tenderly with the black silk before it fluttered forgotten to the ground as his gloved fingers stroked her jaw and brushed over her wet rosy lips. He stood up slowly, refastening his pants, and pulled Marie to her feet and gave her a kiss that lingered just long enough to taste himself on her tongue before he pulled away just ahead of her mutation kicking in.

Logan drew her into his arms and held her tightly against his heaving chest. The intimacy of what they'd just shared staggered him. He'd never felt closer to her than he had in that moment when their eyes had locked. His body had understood and responded even as his mind was still trying to wrap itself around the silent plea in her eyes. _Trust me._

"I love ya, darlin'," he whispered against her hair as he stroked the satiny skin of her back.

"I love you too, Logan." She pressed herself against him, unconsciously seeking the same release he'd just found.

He smiled knowingly against her hair and led her to the bed, stopping only to grab the square of black silk from the floor before he pulled her down on the bed with him. She propped herself up on one elbow and eyed the scarf in his hand curiously.

"What are you doing, sugar?"

He smiled wickedly. "Gonna show you how good that was, honey."

Her scent told him she was definitely on board with that plan.

And it wasn't long before second shout echoed through the mansion.

* * *

 


	22. Announcements

That evening at dinner, the new intimacy between Logan and Marie was evident from the moment they stepped through the doors. Their heads were bent together in intimate conversation and his hand was at the small of her back. He was slowly rubbing it in small circles, as if he couldn't quite keep himself from touching her.

Their conversation was intense and animated. Marie was smiling and talking excitedly with her hands, something she almost never did. Logan had a warm, open smile that touched his eyes and made them crinkle up at the corners. That alone was enough to give most people pause. What was even more amazing was that she kept touching him, putting her gloved hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently, stroking his arm, letting her hand linger at his waist.

It was surprising because nobody really ever touched either of them. Both of them were untouchable, unapproachable in their own way. Marie, because of her skin, and Logan, because he was, well... Logan. The Wolverine didn't really invite people in. Seeing them together like this was something of a shock. The touches they exchanged weren't made with the intent of showing off their new relationship. They simply couldn't be together and not touch.

It was perfectly clear to anyone who cared to look that they were completely at ease in each other's space, the way only lovers were. Even more telling was the heated glances that passed between them from time to time. Like when her eyes lingered on his mouth for an overlong moment. The heat in his gaze rose sharply, and his eyes dropped briefly to her breasts. He bent and whispered something softly in her ear. She pulled back and smiled at him invitingly. The look that past between them was one of barely restrained passion. His nostrils flared as he drank in her scent. For a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the room. Unaware of anything else, they only had eyes for each other.

Jubilee elbowed Bobby. "Get a load of that, Ice Cube. Our girl definitely got herself some."

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Jubes!" Kitty exclaimed.

"What? Come on, chica. It's so obvs even the Bobster here would have noticed."

"Hey!" They ignored him.

Jubilee smirked. "It's about damn time too, 'cause-"

"Shut up, Jubes!" Both Bobby and Kitty spoke at once.

She smirked at her friends. "Oh, please. You're just sore 'cause now ya gotta pay up." She laughed. "Who was it again who said those two would totally hook up before Christmas? Oh, yeah. It was ME!" she finished with a flourish. "I win the pool so you guys gotta pay."

"Fine, Jubes. Whatever." Kitty smiled. I'm just glad we're all home on break and we got to be here to see it. They look so happy together."

"Yeah, they do, don't they?" Jubilee's eyes sparkled and she stood up and yelled, "WAY TO GO ROGUE!"

Jubilee's shout broke the spell and Logan and Marie looked away from each other, aware for the first time they were being watched. Marie blushed prettily and Logan reached up and tucked a white lock of hair behind her ear, a smug look on his face as he did so.

They sat down and ate a quiet dinner together at their usual table. The meal passed uneventfully, and before long, Logan was watching Marie leisurely eating her dessert. She delicately swirled her tongue over the spoon, savoring the tart-sweet taste of the lemon sherbet.

_Damn, she even makes eatin' look sexy._ God, how he envied that spoon, especially now that he knew what that pretty little mouth could do to a man.

He cleared his throat and said quietly, "Have a heart, darlin'. I hafta stand up and make an announcement here in a minute, and you're makin' that a little... hard."

Marie colored and put down the spoon with a shy smile. "Sorry, sugar. I wasn't trying to."

"You don't hafta try. It just happens." He grinned wickedly at her and reached for her hand.

_Shit, you'd think I was one of these teenage horndogs. Come on, bub, work with me here. Of course, if any of these geeks got to be with someone like her they'd probably be hard all the fuckin' time too._ _At least she's stopped lickin' that damn spoon._

It was several minutes of thinking about icy winters and cold showers before he could stand up without embarrassing himself.

He smiled at her. "You ready, baby?"

She nodded.

He stood slowly and pulled her to her feet. Warm hazel eyes met hers. He wrapped his arm around Marie and drew her close, making no effort to hide his ring. He let his intense gaze wander slowly over the room.

"We gotta announcement to make." He didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. When the Wolverine spoke, people listened. A hush fell over the room.

"I ain't one for makin' long speeches, so listen up." His words were gruff, but the heartfelt smile he flashed at Marie betrayed his true feelings. "Rogue and I were married in a private ceremony last night." His voice was full of pride and there was an air of quiet satisfaction about him.

The room erupted. Voices rose with both surprise and happiness. Cries of, 'best wishes' and, 'congratulations' echoed repeatedly. Over the din, one yellow clad resident grinned a megawatt smile and made a particularly raucous catcall before squealing and hugging onto a beaming Kitty.

At that, even the stoic Wolverine broke into a grin. He hugged Marie a little tighter. "The two of us are gonna take a few weeks off an' do a little travelin'."

Jubilee whispered under her breath, "Yeah, and a whole lotta fu-"

"Jubilation Lee!" Kitty hissed under her breath.

Bobby snickered.

Logan's eyes fixed on Bobby and his eyebrow rose infinitesimally.

_Oh, crap. Enhanced hearing. I forgot about that._ Bobby sobered and elbowed Jubilee.

_Good thinkin', bub._

Logan continued on. "When we get back, we'll be havin' a small dinner here at the school to celebrate." He hugged Marie a little closer.

"We'd be pleased if y'all would come," Marie added, giving the room a glowing smile.

There was more cheering and laughter throughout the room until Scott stood up. For a split second, Logan thought Scott might cause a scene, but instead he cleared his throat and picked up his glass. He'd been doing a lot of thinking about what he was going to say when the two of them made their announcement.

_Swear to God, Summers, if you so much as-_ Logan's thoughts broke off as Marie's hand tightened on his. He let out an almost inaudible growl.

_Calm down, sugar. I'm sure it won't be that bad. Under all that uptight, goody-goody, Boy Scout stuff is a really sweet guy._

Scott caught Logan's warning look, but he'd already decided what he wanted to say and not even a nasty glare from the Wolverine was going to change his mind. He nodded at the couple. "To Rogue, who's become the little sister I never had, and to Logan, a man I'd trust at my back any day. Welcome to the family, brother." He raised his glass. "To Logan and Rogue."

There were tears in Marie's eyes and Logan acknowledged Scott's words with a small nod. _Thanks, bub._

There was a chorus of 'Logan and Rogue' throughout the room. Logan brought the edge of Marie's scarf up, covering her nose and mouth, and kissed her soundly. Everyone cheered and there was a round of kind spirited teasing from their friends.

Logan broke the kiss and whispered in her ear, "Love ya, kid," before he raised his head, smiling smugly.

The following hour was one of the best - and worst - of his life. While he was thrilled to tell everyone that she was his, a fact that made his chest swell with pride, all the social niceties were beginning to wear on him.

Public scenes had never been his thing. Neither was making nice with the likes of Scott and the rest of these geeks. Sure, he cared about them. If pressed, he might even grudgingly admit he considered them family, but that was the beauty of family. They had to accept you the way you were. Even if you hated emotional public displays and large crowds of boisterous people, intent on shaking hands - or worse - hugging. Neither of them liked crowds. They were hell on his senses and they usually made Marie pretty nervous.

Logan looked down into Marie's smiling face and realized that any discomfort he might be experiencing was definitely worth it. She was, in a word, radiant. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks were flushed, and her smile was one of absolute joy and pride in her mate.

And truth be told, he did like sharing the news that Marie was his wife, even if it meant he had to put up with all the fall-out from that little announcement.

Marie caught Logan's gaze and stroked his back gently. Under her gloved hands she could feel the tension in his body. She could tell he'd had enough. More than enough. Marie took his large hand in hers and entwined their fingers.

"Thank y'all for being so understandin' about us wantin' a private wedding." Logan noticed her accent had gotten a bit thicker, like it always did when she was a little flustered. "And thank y'all for the sweet words and kind wishes, too." A warm smile touched her eyes and she felt Logan squeeze her hand for speaking the words he, too, felt but couldn't and wouldn't say.

_I know, sugar. I know. They're your family too._

Logan slowly brushed the pad of his thumb over Marie's gloved palm and up the inside of her wrist. She shivered a little and he felt a rush of satisfaction as her scent changed.

_Yup. Time to go, darlin'._

"I - I think it's time we said goodnight," she stammered.

_Damn straight._ He slipped his arm around her and began rubbing slow circles at the small of her back. _It ain't like I didn't enjoy sharin' our news, but I'm done makin' nice, darlin'._

Their eyes locked. "Night," Logan grunted, never bothering to take his eyes from his beautiful new wife. Amidst some good-natured teasing and yet another catcall from Jubilee, Logan and Marie departed, still caught up in each other.

Everyone saw the look that past between them as they left, arm in arm, oblivious to the friendly teasing. Those that had never been in love or never had a lover, envied the couple, and those among them had recognized that look and smiled knowingly.

Once alone in the hall, Marie rested her head on Logan's shoulder as they headed for their room. "Thanks, sugar."

"You don't hafta thank me, Marie. I wanted to do it. Just-"

"I know. Just all those people. It's a lot for me too."

He nodded as they turned the corner and approached their room. Without warning, Logan stopped and pulled Marie into one of the small dark alcoves that littered the halls in this old place. A heavy curtain and a lush potted plant shielded them from anyone who might be in hall.

Here in this enclosed space, the sheer presence of him was overwhelming as he leaned into her and pressed her against the wall, growling quietly.

"I liked it," he whispered furiously as he pulled the scarf from around her neck. "Liked tellin' 'em you're my wife." He covered her nose and mouth with the scarf. "Liked tellin' 'em you belong to me. That you're mine."

He devoured her mouth with a kiss that was more feral possession than anything else. She twined her fingers in his hair and pressed herself against him, kissing him back with equal ardor. Her hands slid down to his chest and she shoved him violently back into the wall on the other side of the tiny alcove.

His back met the wall hard, forcing a soft grunt from his lips, even as his eyes grew dark with desire. She'd never been this forward, this aggressive with him before.

"I liked it too, you know," she whispered furiously as she covered his nose and mouth with the scarf. "Liked showing them that you belong to me. That you're mine." She pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him hard and deep, a long wet kiss in which both of them battled to be the one in control.

She tasted like lemon and cream, a seemingly innocent flavor, and one that contrasted sharply with her aggressively erotic behavior as she licked and sucked at him. He growled into her mouth as her hand trailed down his chest and undid his belt.

He pulled his mouth from hers. Any more of this and she was gonna find herself being fucked hard and fast against the alcove wall, decency be damned. "Bedroom. Now," he growled roughly.

Apparently, he hadn't yet realized that he wasn't in complete control of this situation. In answer, Marie's lips found that shivery spot behind his ear - the one that made his eyes roll back in his head and his breath come in shallow pants. Her fingers teased over him before she deftly lowered his zipper and he was unable to contain his sigh of relief as she freed his straining cock from the confining denim.

"Bedroom," he growled again, bucking against her hand.

"No. _Here_ ," she whispered urgently, and with a growl of her own, she pushed him back against the wall once again and dipped her hand into his jeans. He groaned and fisted his hands, even as he strained into her touch.

"You're playin' with fire, baby." His breath hissed through his teeth as she bit his neck sharply.

_Fuck._

He'd used up all his control downstairs. Not that he didn't want to share their news, it was just too many people, crowding around too close, all emotional. He'd been tightly strung, on overload, when they'd left. And he liked this aggressive side of her, liked it a little too much right now. He'd always known this was within her, this fire. She had a wildness all her own that was outside of the feral qualities she'd pulled from him. He'd been aware of it, drawn to it from the beginning. She was more comfortable in her skin now, and more comfortable with him. Christ, if she kept at him she was gonna push him right over the fucking edge.

_Goddamn vixen._

He tangled his hand in her hair and pulled her mouth from his neck. His blood raced. His body wept for her. So close. His feral glittering eyes met hers. "Push me too hard, baby, and I'm gonna snap," he warned, leering dangerously as her silky fingers skated torturously over his throbbing flesh.

"So snap, sugar," she whispered wickedly, as she pressed her body shamelessly against his side and panted breathlessly in his ear. She touched him sensuously, forcefully, never once giving him even a moment to regain his shattered control.

His gaze slipped from her eyes to watch the hand stroking him. Just the sight of her black-gloved fingers sliding over his leaking cock was almost more than he could stand, but it was her hotly whispered words that finally pushed him over the edge.

"I love touching you here, sugar." Her fingers tightened on him. "You're so hard, so thick and heavy. I love that I can make you wet, just like you make me wet." He was thrusting himself into her hand now. "I'm wet now, sugar. Can you smell it?" She rubbed herself against his thigh and squeezed him a little harder. "Can you?" she purred in his ear.

His nostrils flared and he gave a rough nod, far beyond the capacity to articulate anything but the most basic primal sounds. She'd never talked to him like this before and it was driving him fucking wild. Using his back for leverage, he arched his hips away from the wall, pushing himself more forcefully into her hand.

"Mmm…. You like that?" She didn't wait for a response. His body was talking plenty loud. "I'm gonna touch you all over, sugar. Touch you and stroke you until it burns you up. Until you're coming so hard you can't even think."

He growled, a wild sound that resonated deeply in his chest.

"I'm gonna make you come right here, right in my hand and then I'm gonna rub it all over my skin, sugar. I want you all over me."

"Fuck. Oh, fuck…" He could feel himself slipping as the animal in him rose to meet the unfettered wildness in her.

The cords of his neck stood out in vivid relief and he watched her hand, unable to tear his eyes away from the erotic sight. She had said she wanted this 'here' so he made no effort to contain his growls and grunts of pleasure as she worked him with those little black-gloved fingers.

Marie covered his mouth with her free hand and he bit the fleshy part of her palm in response. She growled at him, but didn't remove her hand. While she wanted his uninhibited response, neither of them wanted to be interrupted. Not now.

"That's the way, sugar. Come on! Don't hold back. I love it when you get wild. Love it when you mark me - when you lose control. You come so hard. So much. I love it see it. You're so beautiful to me." His gaze caught on the lush red mouth whispering so erotically in his ear and he groaned. "That's it. Let me hear how much you like it."

"Unnh. Unnnnhhh…" His flushed face twisted into a beautiful grimace of pleasure. Every exhale was a low growl now.

"Feels good, doesn't it, sugar?" She licked her lips and crooned, "Come for me." Their eyes met. His were dark with passion, but there was just a hint of defiance in their hazel depths. She grinned wickedly and leaned in, growling seductively in her throat as she bit his neck sharply through the scarf and teased the sting away with her tongue before whispering hotly, "I know you love it when I put my mouth on you - love it when I taste you. I love it too. You come so much when I do that."

"Umph…" So close. So close now.

"You watched then, just like you're watching my hand now. I saw you. I want you to watch now. I want you to watch me make you come. I want you to see me rubbing your come into my skin. I want it all over me." He groaned as the last of his control spun away and his hips bucked wildly.

"That's right, sugar. Come."

His powerful frame shuddered and stilled for an instant before his vision exploded into brilliant white. His body jerked rhythmically with the intense release and he shouted his pleasure against her palm as his body painted her glove; thick white stripes shining on rich black satin.

Watching his body's reaction to her touch and hearing his throaty sounds of pleasure was enough to catch Marie up in her own little game. Her eyes lifted from his body and drifted shut as her release took her by surprise.

His arm tightened reflexively around her as she shuddered against him and panted his name as she ground against his thigh. God, he loved hearing her say his name like that. She caught his eye after, and brought her gloved hand up between them, ripe with the pearly evidence of his recent release. Without breaking eye contact, she slid it under her shirt and rubbed it down her body from throat to belly.

"Yours," she whispered simply.

He felt it down to his bones. This woman was his, in every way. He gathered her into his arms, overwhelmed by what they'd just shared. Trembling, she rested her head on his chest and held him tightly.

A surge of protectiveness welled up in him unexpectedly. For as confident and strong as she had seemed a few seconds ago, now enfolded in his embrace, she seemed soft and fragile. Fierce emotions swirled around inside him; lingering tendrils of pleasure, contentment, love, protectiveness... fear.

He pulled her closer and buried his face in her neck. She was fragile in a way he never would be and that scared him because twenty years, or fifty years, or a hundred years would never be enough.

And he knew with a blinding certainty, if something happened to her it would kill him. A man couldn't live without his heart. The part of him that was human would die along with her and the animal left behind would turn his back on the world and return north, to be swallowed once again by the forest.

He stroked her hair gently. "I love you, darlin'," he said quietly. "I always will."

Marie snuggled into him. "I know you do, Logan." She pulled back and looked up into his eyes, placing one gloved palm against his cheek. "And I love you. With all my heart." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "In this life - and the one that follows."

It was eerie, sometimes, how she could tell what he was really thinking even when he couldn't give those thoughts a voice.

_God, darlin', I can't lose you. I can't._

"Marie, I-"

"Shhh, sugar." She put her finger over his lips. "Let it go. Don't waste today's peace worrying about tomorrow."

She was right.

He felt his mood lighten and he took a deep breath, letting the tension ease from him as he slowly exhaled. Against his chest, he felt her soft laugh almost before he heard it.

"What's so funny, darlin'?"

"I was thinking you might want to, you know, fix that." She gestured to his open fly and the proud, sexy droop of his spent cock. "Unless, of course, you have some kind of exhibitionist tendencies I should know about?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her but made no move to cover anything. "Maybe I'm hopin' a little advertisin' will get me attacked in this alcove... again," he said dryly.

She flushed. "You started it, sugar."

"Maybe so, darlin', but you finished it. Jesus, Marie. Do you have any idea how fuckin' hot that was?" Tucking himself away, he refastened his pants and rebuckled his belt. His eyes sparkled wickedly. "I like her, you know - that wild little vixen who pushed me against the wall and stole away my control."

That wild Marie was nowhere in sight now. "It was okay, then? What I did and the stuff I said?"

"Hell, yes." Logan chuckled as he guided them toward their room. "Consider this an open invitation to talk dirty to me any time you want, baby." Logan's rumbly laughter filled their small room as he shut the door and locked it.

She winked at him and a little of that wild Marie crept back in. "Just checking, sugar," she purred. "'Cause I've been holding it in a long, _long_ time." She smiled naughtily. "And that - out there - was just the very tip of the iceberg."

"Well, hot damn." He shook his head and sat down in his chair. He was up again in a matter of minutes, watching as Marie put away the few things she'd brought in her pack last night and remade their bed.

He paced back and forth and eventually came to a standstill in front of the window, arms crossed over his chest, as he watched the snow falling outside. Even after that incredible tension reliever in the hall, he couldn't help feeling like he needed to get out of here for a while and just be alone. All those people pressing in around him had been too much. He just needed a little space. What he really wanted was to do was take a nice long walk through the forest, alone. Just him, the snow, the trees, and a nice cigar. He exhaled slowly and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. A short while later he felt Marie's hand at his back, stroking gently.

"It's alright, Logan. Go."

"You sure?" He needed to go, but he didn't want Marie to feel like he was abandoning her.

"I'm sure, sugar." She got his jacket and handed it to him. She'd expected that he'd need some time after all that making nice with everyone downstairs, just like she knew the tight confines of this room was only making that closed-in feeling worse. That was why she'd chosen the hall to begin with. Well, that, and once she'd gotten started, things had rapidly progressed to the point she didn't care where the hell they were, as long as they weren't interrupted.

"I'll be back in an hour or two, darlin'. I'm just gonna go take a walk - someplace quiet. You gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. I'll just move a few of my things in here, if that's ok?"

"Of course it is. This is your room too, baby, just as much as it's mine. The only reason I picked this one instead of yours is because the bed is bigger." He grinned and gestured haphazardly with his hand. "Move whatever stuff of mine you want to make room for your things. Just leave the heavy stuff and I'll carry it in here for you when I get back."

He pulled on his jacket and headed for the door, stopping to grab a cigar on the way out. In the doorway he turned around and shot over his shoulder, "Don't tire yourself out too much, baby." That feral smile was back. "'Cause I've got plans for you later." And with that he was gone, leaving her smiling at his words and more than a little curious.

While Logan took a long walk through the forest, reveling in the clear icy air and the solitude, Marie worked quickly and efficiently, moving all her things in. It wasn't too hard. She really didn't own that much, and once she got started, she figured she might as well just get it all done at once.

In a little under two hours, her clothes hung beside his in the closet, and her black pumps sat on the closet floor next to his lug sole boots. Her toiletries and assorted 'girl stuff' items were stowed away in the bathroom. Her lemon yellow towels hung next to his green ones and the silky robe 'Ro and Jean had given her had a new home on a hook in the bathroom. Her books were neatly stacked on the bookshelf and her CD's were added to his eclectic collection. She popped one into the player and turned it on, singing along softly as she worked.

She was surprised to see he'd already emptied half the drawers in the dresser. He must have done it while she'd taken that quick nap this afternoon. She smiled to herself and felt her cheeks grow hot as she looked over at the bed and remembered what had made her so tired. She turned back to her work, feeling touched by his simple gesture. It made her feel less like she was invading his space and more like he'd already carved out a spot, just for her.

It struck a chord somewhere inside her to see her intimate things, things like bras and panties that nobody but him had ever seen, next to his socks and t-shirts. She realized that part of what made being married to him so special, wasn't just the physical and emotional intimacy, it was sharing the small intimate every day things. Things only they would ever know about each other. Things like how he liked to fold his shirts and that she liked her socks rolled into balls.

She pulled open the last drawer and found a scrap of paper inside. Written on it in Logan's bold scrawl, was one word.

_Scarves_

Inside the drawer was the scarf she'd worn on their wedding night and a stack of neatly folded bandanas. The kind he always carried with him in his back pocket, just so he could kiss her.

_Oh, sugar. How sweet._

He always found ways to make her feel ok about her skin - make her feel like she wasn't some kind of freak. With him she just felt... loved. She filled the drawer with her colorful assortment of scarves and put her extra body stockings in there too, along with the condoms she'd bought. For someone who'd been a virgin only yesterday, she felt rather risqué for now having a drawer full of things to make sex with Logan possible. A sex drawer. She had a sex drawer. No. _They_ had a sex drawer. She blushed prettily and shut it, rubbing her thumb over the drawer thoughtfully, wondering what they'd add to it over time.

Her last trip from her old room yielded a few of her most treasured items, a photo of her old dog, her diploma in its silver frame, the box of good cigars Logan had kept in her room, a few other precious nick-knacks, and the blanket Logan had given her last Christmas. Marie tossed that over his chair and arranged the rest of the things attractively around the room.

Pleased with the amount of work she'd accomplished, she sighed and blew a stray piece of hair away from her sweaty face. She lit a few candles, turned down the bed invitingly, and flipped off the lights. She glanced over the room, satisfied the warm welcoming atmosphere she'd created would be pleasing to Logan.

She grabbed a beer from the mini fridge and opened it, taking a long refreshing pull from the bottle. _Damn, that's good._ The 'Logan' in her head agreed whole-heartedly. She was just about to strip off her clothes and jump into the shower when Logan returned.

He stopped in the doorway and smiled at the sight of her. Her hair was mussed, she had a dusty smudge on one cheek and a half empty Molson in her hand.

_My kinda woman_.

His gaze flickered intently over the room, noting the changes and how for the first time it felt welcoming. Not like a room - like a _home_. It even smelled different. He inhaled again. He couldn't get enough of that particular scent, their scent, mingled together.

"Looks real nice, kid." He closed and locked the door behind him and pulled her into his arms to give her a hug.

"I'm all sweaty," she protested.

"Not as sweaty as you'll be later," he said with a wink as he pulled her close. The fresh cool smell of the winter forest clung to him, mixing pleasantly with his scent. Marie breathed in deeply.

_Ummm. He smells so good._

"Sorry I took so long. I stopped on the way in to talk with Chuck for a minute." Logan reluctantly let go of Marie long enough to grab a beer from the fridge.

"Is everything okay?"

"It's fine, darlin'."

He sat down in his chair and pulled her down on his lap. Over ice cold Molson, he told her about his talk with the Professor. How they'd discussed his basic timetable for their honeymoon so nobody would be concerned by their lengthy absence.

"Don't worry, darlin'. I didn't give him specifics and I made sure he knows we don't want any interruptions. Those weeks are just for us." He flashed her a grin. "He did offer us the use of the new SUV, but I kinda thought you might wanna take my truck. You know, for old time's sake." He knew he had made the right decision when he saw her face light up.

Sometime, up north, on his search for his past, he'd bought a truck to replace the one that had been wrecked when Sabretooth had caused them to crash. Marie smiled. That seemed like so long ago. The truck he bought was complete with camper top and bike trailer, just like the old one. It made sense, especially for someone like Logan, who traveled around a lot. Up there, you never knew if you would be able to find a warm place to sleep, and a motorcycle - even one with turbo speed - wasn't exactly made for driving in snow, let alone being a comfortable way to travel in the frigid cold.

"You with me, darlin'?"

"Sorry, sugar. Just thinking about the old truck and old times and how much has changed since then." She put down her empty beer bottle and stole a sip from his. "What else did you and Charles talk about?"

He took his beer back and took a drink, savoring the taste of her that lingered on the bottle. Logan filled her in on the rest of his talk. Most importantly, that upon their return he had accepted a permanent position teaching here at the school.

"Is that what you really want, Logan?"

He nodded. "I was a little surprised, myself, but I found that I like teachin'. I like showin' those kids how to defend themselves and kick ass good." He shrugged and took another sip of beer.

Marie nodded, understanding what he meant, but she couldn't help teasing a little. "I suppose you also like teaching them how to kick a little ass."

"Yeah, I've found one or two areas One-Eye ain't exactly covered too well." He grinned the Wolverine grin and took another long pull from his beer. "And I get the summers off too. We can travel. There's good money on the summer fight circuit."

"Sounds good to me."

Amidst smiles and laugher, they finished Logan's beer. While Marie got up and showered, Logan polished off another two beers and got ready for bed. Every now and again, he watched Marie, as she got ready to join him. There was something infinitely satisfying about watching his mate groom herself. Of course, watching her breasts bounce gently as she brushed her hair didn't hurt anything either.

He lay back on the bed, naked, arms behind his head, with a small contented smile on his face. A few minutes later Marie appeared in the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but her black bodystocking and his smile got a whole lot bigger.

* * *

 


	23. Alpha

Logan watched as endless miles of snow-covered forest sped by the windows of the truck. He smiled around the cigar stub in his teeth as he wrapped a silky platinum lock around his finger. He stroked Marie's hair softly and she sighed contentedly.

Surrounded by his scent and his presence, she'd fallen asleep on the bench seat of the truck, curled up on her side using his thigh for a pillow. Her hand was drawn up under her chin and he thought she looked damn good snuggled under his beat-up leather jacket with her hair spread out over his lap. He had one hand on the wheel and the other tangled in her hair and he just didn't think life could get any better.

Logan recognized a few of the landmarks. They were getting close. He stroked Marie's hair gently. "Wake up, darlin'." Marie pushed herself up slowly and stretched. Logan missed the weight of her head on his leg.

_You're gettin' soft, bub... Ok, well, maybe 'soft' isn't exactly the right word._

He chuckled at the sleepy, confused look on her face. "C'mon, wake up."

Marie scowled at him sleepily. "Are we there yet?" Still groggy, she watched the passing scenery with casual interest. She caught her lower lip in concentration as she ran her hands through her sleep-tousled hair trying to tame it into some semblance of control.

"You know, darlin', when we decided to drive to Alaska for our honeymoon, I kinda thought you wanted to be awake to see it," he teased.

She glared at him and poked him in the ribs, eliciting a grunt. "Not everyone has a healing factor, sugar. Some of us actually have to sleep from time to time."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Somethin' keepin' you up at night, baby?" Marie colored and Logan smirked. _Heh, I love teasin' her_. "'Cause somethin's keepin' me 'up' at night, too." The light flush staining her cheeks grew darker.

"Logan!" She reached over and smacked him playfully on the arm.

He loved that for as uninhibited as she was with him, he could always make her blush afterwards. He liked it because it meant that even with all that he'd taught her, she'd still retained some of her innocence, and he'd never wanted to be the one to take that from her.

_At least not all of it anyway_ , he thought to himself with a smug little smile.

"So this guy we're going to see - your friend - how long have you known him?" Marie asked while she hunted through her pack for her hairbrush and her lip gloss.

"I've known Cole 'bout ten years now. He owns the bar in town."

_The only bar in town, but up here all you need to qualify for a town is a bar and a gas station._

"Is that so?" Marie teased. "Why am I not surprised?"

Logan let that one slide.

"There'll be a fight tonight," he said casually, but Marie could practically smell his anticipation. It only added to her own. She'd only seen him fight that one time in Laughlin City. Since he'd come back to the school, she'd asked him several times if she could go with him and watch him fight, but until now he'd never let her come and he'd never told her why, beyond the obligatory 'you're too young'.

Marie shivered, remembering what she'd felt when she'd watched him fight in Laughlin City. So, when she grabbed her pack to toss the hairbrush back in, she slyly pulled out her bodystocking and snuck it into her jacket pocket along with a few condoms. In the Logan rules of life, 'always be prepared' was number two on the list, right after 'kill or be killed' and right before 'keep your beer cold and keep your woman hot'. Marie snickered.

"You done playin' around over there, kid?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "'Cause we're almost there."

"You bet, sugar," she said as she tossed the pack back under the seat.

_Done playing... at least for now, anyway._

The icy gravel crunched under their feet as they approached the bar. Logan kept his hand on her back as he led her inside so every bastard in the place would know just who she belonged to. Inside it was dark and smoky and loud. The fights had already started and the noise of the crowd swelled each time the thud of flesh hitting flesh could be heard. This was his kinda place. Logan could feel the animal rising. He was looking forward to the coming fight, even more so than usual because this time Marie was going to be watching.

They made their way to the bar. Cole saw them coming and raised his voice in greeting. Logan and the woman with him smiled back.

_Interesting. In all the times he's been through here, he's never brought a woman with him before. Found a woman here sure, but never brought one of his own. Well, now. Isn't that interesting?_

Cole watched them as they approached. Logan looked the same as he always did. The woman was young, but beautiful in that 'girl next door' kind of way. She didn't look like the kind of woman he usually chose.

In fact, she looked like the kind of woman he usually avoided. It was obvious from the way she carried herself that she had class, but she didn't seem uncomfortable here. Dressed in jeans, boots, a t-shirt, leather jacket and gloves, she fit right in with the rest of the rugged crowd, but he could tell she was used to better. He wondered what kind of life she'd led to be so comfortable in both worlds.

"Logan, it's good to see you." Cole called over the din. "S'been too long."

Logan turned to Marie. "Don't let him fool you, darlin'. He doesn't miss me, only the money he makes offa me when I'm in his cage," he said loud enough for Cole to hear, but the warmth in his gruff words was unmistakable. "Damn good to see you, Cole." Logan reached out and shook Cole's hand hard.

Cole liked Logan. He was a vicious fighter, but a quiet man who was fiercely loyal to his friends. Cole considered himself lucky to be counted among that number. He'd trust Logan at his back any day.

_This is gonna be fun._ Logan smirked.

"Cole, this is Rogue... my wife." Logan enjoyed the look of shock on his friend's face.

"Hell on fire, boy. Your _wife_?"If he had been smoking, he'd have swallowed his cigarette.

"Nice to meet you, Cole. You must be a pretty good friend to have put up with Logan all these years," Marie teased.

_And she openly teases him? Well damn, I never thought I'd see the day._

"Congratulations, Logan, Rogue. This calls for a celebration. Whatever you want, on the house." Cole smiled warmly and clapped Logan on the shoulder. "I just can't believe someone finally tamed the Wolverine." Cole laughed as he put two bottles of Molson up on the bar for them; taking a stab that anyone crazy enough to marry Logan probably wasn't a stranger to good Canadian beer.

Marie looked at Logan with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Tame him? I don't think so." Two pairs of curious eyes swung to hers. "I like him feral." Cole choked on his laughter and Logan just barely managed to keep the red from creeping up his neck. She grinned and took a sip of her beer. "Ahh, that's good." The 'Logan' in her head agreed whole-heartedly.

"I see they don't call you 'Rogue' for nothing," Cole joked, enjoying a good laugh at his friend's expense. It wasn't too often he saw Logan at a loss for words.

Marie picked up her beer. "Y'all go ahead and catch up. I'll be back in a minute." Both men watched her weave her way through the bar toward the bathroom. Logan wasn't worried about her. Marie could take care of herself. He was sure of it - because he'd been the one to teach her. Her skill went far beyond anything she'd learned in Slim's self defense class. That combined with the 'Logan' in her head made her very dangerous when she wanted to be.

She'd come to him and asked him for special training. She never again wanted to feel helpless like she had with Magneto. Logan had relished teaching her, everything from classic fighting styles to the down and dirty, anything goes, back alley kind of fighting.

His kind of fighting.

He'd taught her the single most important rule he could teach her. The one thing, the _only_ thing, that really mattered in a fight. Kill or be killed. It was that simple. Once you accepted that, the rest was easy. It was a conscious choice that even the most skilled fighters had to make, because there was a world of difference between knowing... and doing. In every real fight there always came that pivotal point where you had to be willing to either kill or to die to win.

Marie took to that philosophy with a single mindedness that amazed him. She didn't fight often, but when she did she was utterly ruthless. It was a beautiful thing to see. _Death in gloves._ A slow smile played at his lips. Who would have guessed that his sweet little Marie would have turned out to be such a bloodthirsty fighter?

Not like Scott or Storm or Jean. They were proficient and efficient fighters, but their motto was dispatch the opponent as quickly and as painlessly as possible. Not Marie. Marie was like him. She liked to inflict some damage first. She could be efficient when necessary, but when it came down to brass tacks, his woman liked to fight. She gave herself over to it the same way he did, and that was the reason he'd never let her come see him fight.

_Until now._

He knew he could control himself... marginally, but he didn't think he could control himself and her too. Hell, he knew he couldn't, but now he didn't have to worry about that anymore.

"Fuck, you're a lucky bastard." Cole said getting himself a beer. Logan didn't say anything. He only smiled smugly and took another long swallow from the bottle.

_I damn sure am._

"Sounds like there's a good story there."

"There is. Later. Not here."

Cole nodded.

"You fighting tonight?"

While Logan and Cole were catching up, Marie was in the bathroom wriggling into her bodystocking. She could sense the animal rising in Logan from the second they walked into the bar and she wanted to be ready. She redressed hurriedly, shivering with anticipation for both the fight and what she knew would be coming after. Marie picked up her beer and headed back out to join them.

Logan was already taking off his flannel shirt by the time she got back. He laid it on the barstool along with the other layers he'd shed. He met her eyes for a brief moment, silently acknowledging both her presence and the bodystocking. His eyebrow lifted a fraction of an inch. Marie only grinned impishly at him.

"Don't waste any time do you, sugar?"

"Not when it's somethin' I want, darlin'." He stripped off his t-shirt and tossed it on the growing pile, enjoying the way his wife's eyes lingered on his bare chest.

Cole watched the interplay between the two with amusement. Rogue could take it as well as she dished it out.

_She's a fiery one, alright. Damn lucky bastard. I bet the sex is fucking nuclear._

Logan looked around getting a taste of the feeling in the crowd tonight. This place was worse than most of the places he fought in. The crowd was wild and unpredictable, but he always found the best opponents here, just beyond the edge of civilization. He decided to leave his boots on this time. He had Marie to think about now. If the shit hit the fan, he didn't want to be running barefoot.

Cole noticed the deviation from Logan's standard routine and nodded. "Good choice." The crowd was particularly unruly tonight. Cole looked at Logan's ring. "Want me to hold that for you?" He asked, inclining his head toward the ring.

Logan pulled the cigar from his mouth. "I don't take this ring off. Ever."

Cole smiled. "I didn't think so." He spared Rogue a look. "I wouldn't either." It didn't matter anyway. It was just a flat wedding band, not a heavy jagged piece like some men liked to wear just to inflict more damage. Logan didn't need any help winning his fights, but Cole understood his reason for keeping it on.

_Doesn't make a shit of difference anyway, it ain't like there's any rules or anything._

Cole pulled a bottle of bourbon from behind the bar. "The usual?" Logan nodded.

"Make mine a double," Marie said from her perch on the barstool without even sparing them a glance, her interest already captured by the ongoing fight.

Cole poured and watched Rogue reach for the drink without taking her eyes from the fight. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it sure wasn't seeing her salute him with the glass before she tossed it back without batting so much as an eyelash. She set the upended glass back on the bar with a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks, sugar." Logan saw the look on Cole's face and laughed.

"Damn!" Cole shook his head in amazement.

"You can say that again, bub." _Hell, he should see what she could do with tequila._ The thought warmed him. Logan tossed his drink back with similar ease. The clang of a bell announced the current fight was over. A feral light lit Logan's eyes as he made his way toward the ring.

Cole's brother Gabriel ran the cage on fight night. At the moment, he was yelling at the crowd, urging one of them forward to fight the current champion. Logan quietly stepped through the mismatched metal fencing into the cage. The crowd roared, anticipating another quick victory for their current favorite.

"Gabe." Logan nodded once at Gabriel.

"Logan." Gabriel acknowledged Logan with a brief nod. He was all business in the ring. Catching up would have to wait until later.

Logan put down his cigar and drink and turned his back on his opponent. He found Marie's eyes. They were intent and she was leaning forward on the barstool, silently urging him on. He rolled his neck, feeling the familiar pop and he rotated his shoulders to loosen them up.

_Like whatcha see, darlin'?_ He gave her one last look and turned his attention to the coming fight.

Marie watched his skin move over his powerful frame. _Sweet Jesus._ His mind and body were honed into the perfect weapon. That precision, combined with his animal savagery, made his every move a thing of beauty. He was the epitome of raw masculine power. Watching his muscles ripple, Marie felt a hot rush of arousal.

Distracted by her desire, Marie missed most of Gabriel's words. She caught the tail end of them and smiled with satisfaction as the champion paled when Gabriel named the new challenger as the Wolverine.

The first fight was over much too quickly. The 'champion' rushed Logan, forcing his hand. It was swift and merciless. Logan took a few good punches, absorbing the pain, letting it feed the animal.

_Too soon. Over too soon. Another._

His blood was up now. He wanted to have some fun. He needed to feel his fists connecting with something solid. He needed the release he could only find in this place. It had been too long.

Barely leashed, the animal was fighting in tandem with the man. Its needs were different. It sought only one thing. Dominance over the rival male. Simple. Brutal. Flawless. Utterly single minded in its goal, regardless of what it had to do to achieve it. The Man-part kept it from killing, but it took a great deal of satisfaction in inflicting as much pain as possible. Underneath it all was something deeper, something basic and primal. The female only mated with the strongest, with the alpha.

He would win.

Logan swallowed his drink slowly as they dragged the old champion from the ring. He felt a slow burn of satisfaction that had absolutely nothing to do with the alcohol. Fighting human men wasn't ever a real challenge, but he relished the feeling of letting his monumental control ease, if only a little bit. It felt so good to give himself over to the wildness inside of him.

He smiled a dangerous smile. _That one was way too fast._ His blood roared in his ears and adrenaline rushed through him. He felt alive. Every muscle and reflex responded automatically. Every sense was working at peak efficiency. He wanted more. _Another. Again._

Another male in the ring. Circling him. More wary than the last one. It didn't matter. This one would lose too. He played with this one, drawing it out. It was painfully obvious to everyone just who was in control.

_She's off the barstool._

That little bit of inattention cost him a swift, nasty punch to the mouth. The crowd screamed and hammered the sides of the cage as he spat a mouthful of blood on the ground. It would have been teeth, too, were it not for his healing factor. The coppery, metallic taste of his blood only served to inflame the animal further. Another punch and it was over. The fragile veneer of humanity slipped a little more and he roared a throaty growl of triumph that was lost in the screaming of the crowd.

A shot of bourbon came through the wire mesh. He put his back to the door of the cage, a supremely confident and arrogant thing to do. The bourbon burned the newly healing skin on the inside of his mouth. He relished the pain, feeding off it. Marie was off the stool, moving closer now, drawn to him. He could smell the desire on her. A low sound rumbled from his chest.

Another male was in the ring now. He let this one hit him from behind. He growled and loosened his hold on the animal. Circling again. He wanted this one bloody... so she could see. To show her who was stronger. He moved with predatory grace, not a single wasted motion. In minutes it was over. He was breathing hard. He gave the defeated male a savage kick, glorying in the fact the blood of the fallen one was on his knuckles. The crowd screamed in approval. This time, Marie's voice rose with it.

She was at the cage now, hands on the mesh, in the thick of the most brutal, bloodthirsty part of the crowd. She'd watched the first two fights with a critical eye, noting each punch, comparing it to the knowledge he'd taught her and weighing it against what her own reactions would have been. This time she was not so detached. He could smell the change. This last fight she'd screamed along with them, urging him to win.

_Savage. Beautiful. Mine._

She'd taken an elbow in the mouth sometime during the last fight from someone in the crowd. There was blood at the corner of her lip. The scent of it excited him. She excited him. She'd given herself over to the last fight, just as he had. The need in her was growing too strong to be ignored. He stared into her eyes, letting her see the answering hunger that burned within him.

Both Cole and Gabriel saw the look that passed between the Wolverine and his woman. Logan forced his hot gaze away from Marie and turned to Gabe. "Last one." He said with a rough growl. Gabriel understood, and called for one last challenger.

Someone stepped into the ring. Logan's body tensed. His senses told him this one was different.

_Smells different. No fear in this one. Male. Rival. Mutant._

Logan smiled an ugly feral smile. It wasn't a worthwhile challenge unless he could pit himself against someone with a real chance of winning, not like those puny humans. This mutant facing him would be a real challenge. A predatory gleam burned in his eyes. He bared his teeth and snarled at the larger man.

The fight began in earnest. Each of them took blows that would have felled lesser men. There was no fancy footwork, no artful dodging and weaving. Only two men circling each other like animals, pounding away with beastly savagery. The crowd went wild, knowing instinctively this one was a true fight, not the exhibition the last ones had been. This one was going to get ugly. The crowd screamed, beating the cage. Marie screamed along with them. They were yelling for blood. Marie was yelling for him, for the animal.

Logan let the last of his restraint go. The animal surged, triumphant within him, taking each blow, each crushing punch, with ruthless abandon and savage determination. It would take any amount of punishment to win, and it did. The animal roared in victory, made all that much sweeter because it had beaten a worthy opponent. Two rivals, equals, fighting for supremacy. One man carried away and one man walked away, proven by pain, baptized by blood, alpha in the most elemental way... and his mate was waiting.

Logan left the ring without a word, oblivious to the crowd, the noise, the smoke, everything but her. The crowd parted. Nobody wanted to be in the charged space between the Wolverine and his woman. At the edge of his consciousness, Logan was aware another fight had started. It didn't matter.

He stood before her a long moment, resplendent in his victory, covered in sweat with the blood of the fallen on his knuckles. His chest was heaving and the light in his eyes was nothing short of feral.

He had won.

Everything else faded away but the man in front of her. Her mate. Their eyes met. The need surging in each of them was instinctive. One must claim, one must surrender. It was powerful and utterly undeniable.

Roughly, he forced her back against the wire mesh of the cage and captured her mouth in a punishing kiss, just long enough for the connection to open. Marie felt his wildness, his hunger pour into her. The kiss was brutal in its intensity. He tasted the metallic tang of her blood. She bit him in response to the animal need she'd bled off from him. Their blood mingled. It had never been this wild, this out of control. He lifted her legs, dragging her across the hard ridge in the front of his jeans. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, working herself against his hard cock. He pressed her back roughly into the wire of the cage and ground himself against her, ignoring the crowd as they screamed around them urging the next two fighters on. Urging them on.

Logan smelled something. _A friend. Cole. Fuck._ He regained his control enough to drop Marie's legs back to the ground. Her eyes were glassy, and they were both breathing hard. Cole was here with his money and his jacket. _Good._ He'd known what Logan had needed as good friends always did. Not the money or the jacket, but a timely interruption before things _really_ got out of hand.

"Later," he ground out, indicating to the envelope of money Cole held. "And stay the fuck away from the back wall." Logan grabbed the jacket and jerked it on. He ignored the money and shoved past Cole, dragging Marie after him.

Cole smiled knowingly and pocketed the envelope. He watched as Logan and Marie went behind the bar and out the back door. About ten feet beyond the back door was a storage shed and the space between the two buildings was fenced. Logan knew this. He'd helped Cole build the fence the last time he'd passed through.

Cole laughed and headed to the bar, getting out two cold beers. They'd be thirsty when they came back inside. He set them on the bar knowing that they wouldn't even have a chance to warm up before the couple returned. What was about to happen out back wasn't going to be sweet or slow.

Logan kicked the door shut, knowing Cole wouldn't let anybody though. Anyone who'd seen that kiss and they way he'd dragged her through the crowd knew exactly was going to happen out here. A part of him had wanted to take her there against the cage, surrounded by the men that weren't strong enough, who would never be strong enough to have her. That part of him had wanted to show every single one of them that this female was his, undeniably, in every way.

Thank God for Cole's timely interruption. It had allowed the Man to seize control back from the animal, at least long enough to get them out of there. The Man-part didn't like the others watching. The Man-part didn't like to share any part of Marie. Logan couldn't tell who had control now. Still riding the high from the fight, with his blood roaring hotly in his veins, he felt like his every sense was on fire.

Marie was a wild thing in his arms, fighting him, pulling him closer, wanting the same release he found in the cage and wanting the release only he could give her. He loved her, but this wasn't about love. It was about need and hunger. It wasn't pretty or tender. It was violent and primal and neither of them could have stopped it even if they'd wanted to.

Logan slammed her back against the wall with his body hard enough to make her teeth snap together and rattle the glasses behind the bar. Cole heard the sound and swallowed both a bark of laughter and a hot rush of envy.

Logan bit Marie's neck, hissing through his teeth as she rubbed against him and her nails raked his back under the jacket. He didn't even feel them, nor did he feel the frigid winter air against the bare skin of his chest. All he felt was the lust pooling hot and heavy between his legs and the mindless desire to claim his mate.

He moved back from her and kicked her feet apart roughly with his boot. He stepped between her parted legs and thrust against her, enjoying her whimper.

_Fuck. Too many clothes between us._

He released his middle claw about an inch and deftly sliced the center seam on her jeans, just enough to give himself access. The scent of her arousal enveloped him and he growled.

His hands went to his buckle, but hers were already there. Unzipping him now. _Hurry the fuck up, baby._ He fished a condom from her back pocket and tore the foil with his teeth. He had it on before the empty packet had fluttered to the snowy ground. He jerked her legs up and drove into her in one smooth motion. All of him. All in. The silky feel of her around him sent a shaft of white-hot pleasure up his spine and into his skull, making him light-headed. He looked down to where she was so intimately impaled upon him and felt a savage rush of satisfaction.

_Mine._

Marie cried out in pleasure as he filled her, slamming her back again and again into the wall. Her small even teeth found his shoulder and bit him until she tasted blood. She pulled away, gasping as much from the taste of him on her lips as from the rush she'd absorbed. Pleasure, made more intense by the sharp spikes of pain, drove them both higher. Combined with the images she'd pulled from him, Marie skated along the edge, agonizingly suspended between ecstasy and pain.

Logan snarled and licked her mouth, growling now, low and deep, as he tasted himself on her. _God, I wanna..._ The connection had been brief but intense. He saw her nod and he was lost. He dug his fingers into her hips and roughly crushed her against him as he gave one last brutal thrust. He felt Marie's body convulse around him. She grabbed his neck and tightened her legs around him. He snarled her name against her neck and moved his hands up, releasing his claws as his orgasm seared through him.

Cole heard Rogue's throaty groan and a second later Logan's voice growl the name, 'Marie', as six razor sharp claws shot through the back wall. _So it's 'Marie' is it?_ Cole let out a low chuckle. At least the glasses along the back wall had stopped their violent rattling and the familiar claws had disappeared. _Jesus, Logan. Take it easy on my bar for Christsake._ Cole whistled softly. _Damned of I wasn't right about the sex though, the lucky bastard. Hell on fire. Definitely a matched pair, those two._

It made a man start wondering if a wife wasn't such a bad thing after all. The winters up here were long and cold. It wasn't just the sex. Logan seemed different this time, less lost, more at ease inside himself. 'Marie' was right. He wasn't tamed by any stretch of the imagination. He'd lost none of that edge that made him so dangerous. If anything, her presence only seemed to heighten it. Cole smiled. He was glad that Logan had found love. If anyone ever deserved a shot at happiness it was him.

Outside, the two lovers leaned against each other until their ragged breathing and pounding hearts returned to some semblance of normalcy. Logan lifted his head from her shoulder. He wanted her again, but the need was controllable this time and he knew he'd been rough. He could wait until she recovered... a little. He slowly let her legs down, feeling both a husband's concern and a lover's satisfaction when he saw her wince slightly.

"You okay, darlin'?" That had been... Fuck, he didn't know what that had been. His mind was still reeling. "Did I hurt you?"

Marie nodded her head. "But it's okay. I wanted you to." She was sore, but in a good kind of way. It had hurt a little, but it had been a sweet ache that had only intensified her pleasure. She leaned into his powerful body, letting him support most of her weight while she stripped the condom from him. The chill winter air rapidly cooled their heated flesh.

Marie's body tingled with a slow languid warmth and the ache slowly vanished as the lingering effects of his mutation burned through her. Her movements were slow and her body felt weak, boneless, like she could just melt into a contented puddle, despite the icy wind. She rested her head on his shoulder and smiled against his neck. She made a noise somewhere between a purr and a contented sigh. "I never want to move again." Pressed against him so intimately, she felt the soft chuckle before she heard it. Without looking she just knew he was smiling smugly. "That was..."

"Yeah, baby, it was," he agreed, still struck by the savage intensity of what had just happened. He'd never released his claws during sex before, but he knew she had liked the wildness of it just as much as he had.

He pulled away slightly and rebuckled his belt. "That was also the reason I never letcha come and watch before."

"How could you have possibly known this would happen?" She asked, eyes sparkling.

Logan lifted his head and fixed his gaze on her with a look that said, 'come on, even you aren't THAT naive'.

_Okay, so I knew it was a possibility. I'd HOPED it was a possibility._ Marie smiled smugly at him, but wisely chose to say nothing.

He grunted in response to her smug little smile. "That first time in Laughlin City, you wanted me even then." It was a statement not a question. Now it was his turn to look smug.

"Did I?" She teased.

"Yeah," he said arrogantly, tracing the slit he'd cut into her jeans with one hand. The one she hadn't noticed yet. "You can't hide your body's reactions to me, darlin'. I could smell it on you then, just like I can now."

Marie's eyes flickered over his jeans. She raised an eyebrow at him. "You can't exactly hide your reaction either, sugar. At least not in those pants."

_Ain't that the truth._

He gave a short bark of laughter and reached for her hand to pull her back inside. She took two steps and stopped short, eyes widening with disbelief, even as the hint of a smile formed on her lips.

"Marie?"

Those two little steps combined with the night air made it painfully obvious, to her at least, that her pants were no longer completely intact. _When did that happen?_ "Dammit, Logan. These were my favorite jeans," she hissed as she glared accusingly at him.

"Now they're my favorites." He shot her a wicked grin. "C'mon, baby. Nobody'll know."

"I'll know," she grumbled under her breath as he pulled her back inside the smoky warmth of the bar.

He said nothing, but she could tell he'd heard her because the wide set of shoulders in front of her were shaking with silent laughter as they reentered the bar.

* * *

 


	24. Omega

Logan stomped back inside the bar, bringing a swirl of icy air with him as he pulled Marie in after him. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as they passed Cole, who was behind the bar.

He cracked a wry grin and said, "Beer's on the bar for ya." He bent down to put something away under the counter and muttered amusedly to himself, "I figured you'd both be pretty damn thirsty after that. Shit, even I needed a drink after that."

Cole knew all about Logan's mutation, and he knew that he'd be able to hear him. In fact, he was counting on it. What good were old friends if you couldn't make an off-color joke at their expense from time to time?

Logan chuckled and Marie's face flamed as they made their way back to the barstools. All those unprotected touches had given Marie a rather healthy dose of Logan's mutation - which included, among other things, enhanced hearing.

Cole straightened and caught her blush out of the corner of his eye. _Whoops. Shit. I guess she heard that, too._ Cole flashed the couple an apologetic grin. _I wonder what kinda mutation she's got?_

The question must have shown on his face. Logan took a long pull on his beer and set it down. He met Rogue's eyes briefly and Cole saw her almost imperceptible nod.

"Absorption," Logan said quietly as he raised his beer back to his lips.

_Oh._ It took a second for it to sink in. _Ohhhhh... Right then. No secret how she 'absorbed' him this time._ Cole turned around to spare Rogue any more embarrassment as he tried to suppress a laugh and failed.

"Don't worry, sugar," Marie said to Cole. "It's not your fault tall, dark, and feral, here, couldn't keep it in his pants."

Logan nearly choked on his beer. _Well, darlin', I didn't hear you complainin'. In fact, all I heard was you moanin' in my ear._

Logan wisely kept that thought to himself.

Cole chuckled as he saw Rogue grin wickedly. Apparently, she'd regained her composure, albeit at Logan's expense. He watched as she saluted Logan with her beer and took another long drink.

_Damn. I'm liking that girl more and more._ Cole shook his head in amusement.

Logan raised his eyebrow and smirked at her. "Careful now, darlin'. Crackin' jokes about pants might not be the smartest move to make, all things considered." He rubbed his hand over his knuckles, as if she needed a reminder about what his claws has been cutting through not more than a few minutes ago.

Marie flushed again and shot a silent 'thank you' skyward that her jacket was long enough to hide Logan's little 'modification' to her pants.

"Logan," she hissed playfully as she swatted his arm.

"Well, ain't that cute," a nasty voice interrupted. Logan, Marie and Cole turned to look at the owner of that sneering voice. It belonged to the first man Logan had beaten tonight.

_Fuck. This happens too often._

Logan knew what was coming next. Sometimes he stayed and fought again, but this was Cole's place. Even though he could easily take this asshole, he couldn't risk starting a brawl that would bust up the bar. It was all Cole had. He was going to have to cut his visit with Cole short and leave before this dumbass started something he'd be forced to finish.

_Dammit._

He didn't have that many good friends and he'd been looking forward to this visit, more so than he wanted to admit.

As much as he hated to leave, if it got out that Cole knew he was a mutant and let him fight anyway, these bigoted assholes would tear this place down and do worse to Cole.

_Much, much worse,_ Logan thought grimly.

It would be better for everyone if they just left now. Cole was a hard man who'd lived a hard life. He'd understand if Logan just grabbed Marie and walked away without a backward glance.

"No _human_ could fight like that and walk away without a fucking scratch," the man sneered again.

_Christ, it's always the same._

"Don't start something you don't want him to finish, boy," Cole said, jerking his head towards Logan. "Besides, everyone saw him spitting blood in the ring. You lost fair and square, so suck it up and get your sorry ass outta my bar."

_Nice try, Cole. But we both know it ain't gonna be that easy._ Logan's eyes met Cole's briefly.

"It's easy enough to fake spitting blood," the ex-champion snarled. "And it's Ray, not 'boy', you old fuck."

"It's fine, Cole. We'll go," Logan said quietly. He wanted nothing more than to gut this asshole, wanted it so bad his knuckles itched, but he could swallow his pride and leave for Cole's sake. Good friends like him were hard to find and he had nothing to prove. It wasn't worth Cole losing his bar over.

"That's right, go," Ray threatened. "Take that little whore of yours and get the fuck out. We don't want your kind here."

At the word 'whore' Logan's whole body tensed and he started growling low and deep. It was a menacing sound that made the hair on the back of Ray's neck stand up.

_I'm thinkin' that was one mistake too many, bub._

Marie put her hand on Logan's arm.

_Easy there, sugar._

She knew he was close to snapping, but she also understood his desire to protect Cole and his livelihood.

"Take your jacket off, sugar," she said slowly, never once raising her voice or taking her eyes from Ray. The tension crackled thickly as other patrons began to take an unhealthy interest in them. Usually, when a man stripped off his jacket he was preparing for a fight, but there was something odd in the girl's tone that suggested something other than a brawl was about to take place.

Logan's eyes met hers and she could see the uncertainty in their glittering depths.

_You don't understand, darlin'. I can't fight him. Not now. I don't want them blamin' Cole when they figure out what I am - and they will, 'cause this is gonna get ugly._

More people were watching now, hoping for another fight, or hoping the Wolverine would turn out to be a mutant. In which case, they wouldn't mind siding with Ray and kicking a little mutie ass.

Marie's face gave no outward sign any of this was affecting her, but her fingers tightened on his arm and he could hear the frantic beating of her heart. "Trust me," she said under her breath just loud enough for him to hear. He tensed, but did as she asked and slowly removed his jacket, trying not to make it seem as if he was stripping to fight Ray.

_I hope you know what you're doin', kid._

As the jacket came off, the vivid bite mark on his shoulder and the deep scratches on his back came into view. He'd forgotten about those. In an instant he understood what she was trying to do.

_Damn, baby. It's a good thing I don't embarrass easily._

Too worried about Cole and the possibility of a fight erupting to be blushing, Marie took another sip from the bottle in her hand. She drew on her inner 'Logan' for the strength and self-assuredness it would take to pull this off without dissolving into an embarrassed puddle. She was the Rogue, for God's sake. She could brazen it out.

She took a steadying breath and trailed one fingertip over Logan's shoulder seductively, confidently, as if it was an everyday occurrence for her to be displaying the love marks she'd put on her lover's body.

"Well, Ray, take a good look." Marie arched her eyebrow at him. "I don't seem to have any trouble leaving a mark." Marie waited while Ray's disbelieving eyes slid over Logan, noting the still bleeding bite mark on his shoulder and the angry red scratches on his back.

When she figured Ray had gotten a good enough look she flashed Logan a smile and threw him his t-shirt. "Quit showing off, sugar. I think Ray, here, has seen enough and all that skin is giving me ideas…"

Logan caught the shirt and smiled at her, playing along. He chuckled darkly. It wasn't a nice sound. His gaze flicked to Ray and the smile vanished, replaced by a low threatening snarl.

As drunk as he was, Ray was rapidly realizing he'd made a serious mistake.

_Shit_ _. Shit! FUCK!_

He'd been so sure the 'Wolverine' was a mutie. Maybe he'd been hit harder than he thought. Now that everyone knew he wasn't a mutant, Ray was gonna be on his own. He wasn't an indignant human backed by a bar full of self-righteous supporters any longer, he was just another drunk asshole looking like a sore loser.

Ray watched as the Wolverine put his shirt back on and picked up his cigar. He barely managed to keep from running when the Wolverine fixed his cold unblinking stare on him. Ray began to sweat, feeling decidedly like prey caught in a predator's sights.

_Oh, fuck._

The Wolverine leaned in close - close enough for Ray to smell the blood that still clung to him from the previous fights. His guts churned and Ray thought he might be sick. He swallowed hard, all bravado gone, as the Wolverine exhaled, enveloping him in a cloud of cigar smoke.

"I think you owe my _wife_ an apology." His voice was dangerously soft.

_Fuck._

This was going from bad to worse. Not only had he accused him of being a mutant, he'd also called this man's wife a whore. "S- Sorry," he stammered.

Marie's soothing touch was back again on Logan's arm, but she knew better than to interrupt them this time. Logan was much more vicious about defending her than he'd ever been about defending himself. Logan looked Ray up and down once and grunted. He turned his back on Ray, the dismissal obvious. The Wolverine's wife jerked her head meaningfully at the door before she, too, turned away.

Ray wasted no time in leaving, thankful he was being granted the opportunity to walk away rather than being carried away - again. He got in his truck and left because the look the Wolverine's woman sent him gave him the distinct impression only she and Cole stood between him and another painful taste of the Wolverine's fists.

As Logan and Rogue turned back to the bar, Cole put another beer in front of each of them. He nodded once at the couple. "Thanks." There was a wealth of emotion in that one word. He knew he was the only reason Logan hadn't wiped the floor with that asshole.

Now that the threat had passed, Marie's face heated once again, knowing that everyone who'd watched that tense exchange had also seen the marks on Logan's body, and they all knew exactly how he'd gotten them - and from whom.

She stole a glance at Logan under her lashes.

_Damn the man._ He was sitting there looking smug as could be. _Figures. You are definitely gonna pay for that later, sugar._ Thoughts about just how she could accomplish that goal played through her head and she bit back a groan. _Geez, girl. Get a grip._

Logan's head snapped up at the change in her scent. He met her eyes and smiled knowingly at her. He grinned and stretched lazily, like predator contented after a large meal. Marie shivered under his gaze and looked away, taking another sip of her beer.

Cole wondered how on earth she'd been able to mark Logan so easily, considering his mutation. _How in the…?_ "What the hell?" he wondered aloud, knowing this wasn't the time and place to ask, but too curious to keep silent.

"Later," Logan said quietly as he finished his beer.

 

**~ oOo ~**

 

That night, over a simple meal in Cole's cabin, Logan shared their story, including how it was possible for her to mark him, even with his mutation. When he'd finished, Cole whistled softly. "That's some story," he chuckled. "You? Teaching? I'd give my right arm to see that," he joked.

Logan's mouth turned up at the corners and he flashed his claws at Cole with a cool _snikt_. "That can be arranged, bub."

Marie rolled her eyes. "Put those away, sugar. You aren't scaring anyone." Cole snickered and Logan issued a mock growl.

_Uh huh. We all know underneath all that cussing and growling you're just a big old softie._

Marie's gloved hand absently stroked Logan's arm and she smiled at him, her heart in her eyes for all the world to see.

Cole got up and gave them a moment of privacy while he made some coffee. When he returned a few minutes later he wasn't at all surprised to see that Marie looked well and thoroughly kissed and Logan was sitting back, looking decidedly pleased with himself as he tucked a black bandana back into his pocket. Marie's mouth was slightly swollen and her soft, brown eyes were sparkling. In all the years he'd known him, Cole didn't think he'd ever seen Logan look so at ease, so happy.

The three of them spent a pleasant evening together talking. It did Cole's old heart good to see Logan so content. He grinned at the couple on the couch. "I know you were planning on staying in town tonight, but I was thinkin' you two might be more comfortable here." Before they could protest, Cole added. "Think of it as a wedding gift." He threw a wink at Rogue and looked Logan up and down, paying particular attention to his fists. "Just don't let him put any more holes in anything, honey." Rogue's rich laughter rang out.

"Real funny, bub," Logan shot back.

"Don't you two worry about me, either. I got me a room back at the bar for nights the weather's too bad to make it home. I'll be fine."

"Thanks, Cole. That's real nice of you," Logan said quietly.

Cole nodded and they said a quiet goodnight at the door. They'd be leaving in the morning, but they'd promised to stop and stay another night after they'd returned from Anchorage.

Logan closed the door and hugged Marie close. He could think of nothing he'd like more than spending a quiet evening in a secluded cabin with her. From the way she smelled, he was pretty sure she was thinking the same thing. Logan gave her a little squeeze and released her. He added a few logs to the fire and settled himself on the couch while Marie turned out the lights.

He leaned his back against the arm of the couch and stretched out his long legs, parting them to make a spot for her. "C'mere, kid." Marie settled between his legs, resting her back against his chest, and leaning her head back against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly as they watched the fire pop and sputter.

"I like it here - up north," she said after a while.

"Do you?"

He felt her nod against his chest. "I like the solitude, the peace." Logan nodded. He knew just how she felt. "And nobody looks at me funny here, either - you know - like I'm a freak for being covered up all the time."

Her soft admission tore at his heart. _You're not a freak to me, Marie. You're strong and beautiful and good,_ but she continued on before he could interrupt.

"Even at the school I'm a freak among freaks." She paused. "I - I like it up here because here I'm not 'that girl with the deadly skin.' Here I'm just Marie. Just myself. Just the Wolverine's woman, your woman." She lapsed into silence, a little shy about what she'd just admitted.

"Jesus, darlin'." He hugged her close and rested his cheek against the top of her head. He knew she was uncomfortable around other people, but he had no idea it was that bad, had no idea she felt so strongly about it. She'd never said anything about it before in all the times they'd talked. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He didn't try to tell her she wasn't a freak. They lived in a world with harsh realities. Neither of them made excuses or lied to themselves. They couldn't afford to take a caviler attitude about who and what they were. That only put others in danger. They were simply two people bound by love and by the shared pain of being untouchable. There was no need to sugar coat things between them.

"You think I don't feel like a fuckin' freak for having these?" He released his claws on one hand and retracted them just as quickly. She shook her head. "Do they make you love me any less?"

"Of course not. I love them. They're beautiful to me."

"I feel the same way 'bout your skin." His voice was low and full of emotion.

"Even if I never learn to control it? Even if we never get to-" She wanted to tell him she'd controlled it that once, but she still didn't want to get his hopes up. They had time. She'd keep working on it and maybe tell him in the spring. It was his life too and he deserved to know the truth.

"Not even then, darlin'," he said softly. "Besides, we seem to be doin' alright so far in that department." There was a hint of amusement in his voice now. "I sure as hell don't have any complaints."

"You sure?"

"Christ, baby. How can you even ask me that after what happened behind the bar tonight?" he asked in bemused exasperation.

"Just checking, sugar." He could hear the smile in her voice.

"Marie? About what happened tonight, you sure I didn't-"

"I'm not made of glass, Logan. I'm fine."

"The truth, darlin'," he prompted softly.

"The truth? Yeah, you hurt me a little." She touched his shoulder where she'd bitten him. "And I hurt you a little, too."

"Marie I-"

"Let me finish. I've got a lot of 'you' inside me and I've got a lot of wildness in me that's just me, just in Marie. I don't know why it's there. It just is… and it was there before my mutation ever manifested. Sometimes I want to make love and sometimes - sometimes I just want what happened behind the bar."

"Fuckin'." His voice was rough.

"Yeah, sugar. Fucking."

He smiled a little at the way she tripped over that word. It wasn't one she usually used. Logan thought about her fiery temper. _At least not one she uses out loud, anyway._ He chuckled softly.

"Just because it's not sweet and soft and romantic doesn't make it any less powerful or meaningful to me, you know?"

His heart glowed. "I know, kid." He held her tightly. "It's always good with you. Always just right." She melted into him at that.

"Thanks."

"You bet."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, both content to just be in each other's arms, feeling the soft rise and fall of each other's breath. She felt safe, wrapped up in his strong arms and his body radiated a warmth that sunk deeply into her bones. Logan slowly relaxed, something he rarely allowed himself to do. He felt completely at ease with Marie nestled so close. He stroked her hair and idly twined a silky lock around his fingers. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, enjoying the way their scents mingled.

Finally, he stirred. "I'm gonna go take a shower. Wash the fight offa me."

"Sure, sugar. I'm gonna go fix us a snack."

Neither of them moved an inch.

Eventually, Marie turned in his arms and smiled at him suggestively. "I'm gonna go fix that snack now. I've heard healing factors work up quite an appetite."

"Good thinkin', darlin'," he said with a chuckle as he headed to the bathroom.

While Logan showered, Marie hunted through the pantry. _Looks like Logan isn't the only one with a sweet tooth around here._ She grabbed one of the boxes of brownie mix, and in no time, the rich smell of baking chocolate filled the tiny cabin. While the brownies cooked, Marie undressed and got another bodystocking out of her pack. She wriggled into the sheer fabric and pulled Logan's flannel shirt on over it for warmth.

A little while later, Logan emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a clean pair of jeans that rode low on his lean hips. Marie's eyes sparkled with anticipation. She growled playfully at him and turned around to finish cutting the brownies into generous squares.

"Smells real good, baby." He sat down at the small table, enjoying the way she looked wearing just his shirt. Marie put the plate of warm brownies down on the table and poured two glasses of milk.

"Milk?" He quirked an eyebrow at her as she set the glass down in front of him.

"Milk," she said, as she slid into the chair across from him. "Beer doesn't go with chocolate."

He took a bite of the warm brownie. "Beer goes with everythin', kid."

"Oh, please." She tapped her head. "I have you in here. I know you like milk-n-cookies, milk-n-brownies, milk-n-" She broke off. His ears were getting red. "You blushing, sugar?"

He didn't say anything; he only reached for another brownie and growled playfully at her as he poured himself another glass of milk.

She took another bite. So he wanted to play, did he? "Maybe you could do one of those 'got milk' ads. You know, the big badass mutant cage fighter with a milk mustache?"

Logan dropped his half eaten brownie back to his plate. That was all the warning she got. With a feral smile he lunged for her, but she quickly darted under his outstretched arm with a squeak and ran for it. The cabin only had two rooms and a loft so there really wasn't anywhere to go, but that was the whole point. What fun was running if you didn't get caught?

Marie skidded to a stop on the far side of the couch. They circled each other, keeping the couch between them. Marie was gasping for breath she was laughing so hard. He growled at her again, enjoying even this simple chase.

"Hey, bub. Got milk?" she wheezed.

"GRRRR." _You're gonna pay for that, darlin'._ To hell with going around it, in a split second he was up and over the couch. A few seconds more and he had her right where he wanted her, pinned under him on the thick rug in front of the fire.

Even though they were just playing, she didn't hold back. This was no mock struggle. In between bouts of laughter, she bucked wildly under him in an attempt to break his hold. He just chuckled at her and easily pinned her hands above her head with one of his. A wicked, feral smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He lowered his mouth to her ear and she stopped struggling. His bare skin was too close to hers now and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.

"Yield to me, darlin'," he growled softly in her ear.

She didn't move, but she didn't relax under him either. Her muscles were coiled, ready, waiting for him to pull back enough so she could safely fight him without worrying about the skin on her face touching him. But he'd had enough playing. The animal surfaced for an instant and he bit her neck sharply, his eyes sliding towards gold.

"Yield." His growl was rougher this time. It sent little erotic shivers down her spine.

_As if I'd be stupid enough to say no to that, sugar. I guess this win makes you 'King of the Cabin'._

Marie kept that thought to herself. While he let down his guard with her and shared parts of himself with her that nobody else ever saw, he was still the Wolverine underneath it all. And sometimes, like now, he needed her to submit. A warm smile touched her eyes.

"You win, sugar. Just like you won tonight." Her voice was soft and full of pride in her mate. "I'm all yours. Every bit of me."

With a triumphant smile, he rolled off her and stretched out on his side next to her. He propped his head up with one hand, but his other hand never left her hip. Marie rolled to her side to face him and propped her head up as well. A slow smile played at her lips.

"I loved watching you fight. Watching you win. You were... "

"I was what?" He asked, interested in both her answer and at the way her scent was changing. His hand tightened possessively on her hip.

"Savage. Beautiful. Only... "

"Only what?"

"Something was missing," she said honestly.

"What?" He asked, a little more sharply than he had intended.

_It sure didn't seem like anythin' was missin' when you shouted for me to win or when I fucked you 'till you screamed, either._

She saw his scowl. "Not that, sugar," she said with a shy smile. "This." She pulled the tags from around her neck. "You were missing this." She refastened them around his neck and took a good look at him, bare chest, bare feet, jeans, wild hair, tags. He looked exactly the way he'd looked when she'd first seen him in Laughlin City, except now he was wearing a wedding ring.

"I told you I wasn't gonna take these from you again." His voice still had a little bit of an edge to it.

"I know, sugar. You aren't taking anything. I thought - I thought maybe we could share them tonight..." her voice trailed off.

Logan had to admit he'd missed the familiar weight of them. For a lot of years they'd been his only companion. He wasn't too sure what to say to her.

Unsure of his silence, her face fell. "I'm - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you think I didn't want to wear them. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I just thought... " her eyes filled with tears. The tags – and their emotional weight – tended to bring her feelings to the surface.

"Whoa. Whoa there, darlin'. It's real sweet what you did. I was just thinkin' how much I missed wearin' 'em, is all." She smiled a little at that. "That's right." His brows drew together in thought. "But I still like seein' 'em on you, too." He pulled her close and nuzzled her neck. "I can't help it," he whispered against the skin of her throat. "I like markin' you as mine. Markin' you with my tags or my mouth or my scent," he admitted softly, his breath hot against her skin. "Makes you mine." His nipping and kissing was becoming more urgent. "Mine," he growled again as his tongue flicked over the pulse pounding at the base of her throat.

"I love being yours, Logan." She cupped his cheek with her gloved palm. "I love you."

"I love you too, kid."

They made love by the fire, slowly, passionately, showing each other how they felt with touches instead of words. They stroked and caressed, savoring each sound, each fevered reaction they wrung from each other. In time, his growls and grunts of pleasure and her throaty groans of release turned to soft sighs and slow even breathing.

When the fire had died down to glowing coals, Logan gathered her close and watched over her as she slept. He thought she was most beautiful like this, her lush mouth gently bruised from his kisses, her body still flushed from his touch, his scent drying on her skin. While the flickering light from the coals danced over her flawless creamy skin, he pulled her close and whispered to her of the deepest desires of his heart.

He told her his secrets, his hopes and fears, his dreams and wishes. It didn't matter that she was asleep. He would tell her again when she was awake, when he was ready, when she was ready. But right now his heart was too full to be silent.

He brushed his fingers gently over her flat stomach and whispered to her about children, about his joy at someday seeing her body change as she carried their child inside her, about raising a family with her. Protecting them. Watching over them. Loving them. He whispered to her about the cabin he'd bought years ago, humble like this one, only farther north. For now it would be a place they could go in the summer when he wasn't teaching and she wasn't taking classes, and later it would be a place they could raise a family together.

His heart was full; of love, of wonder, of peace, and for the first time that he could remember, full of hope. He lay beside her and pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her protectively. It didn't matter that they couldn't touch. The intimacy they shared went far beyond any physical caress. She was the first one, the only one, to touch him inside, where it truly mattered. Curled around his mate, he joined her in sleep.

At dawn, Logan woke her and they made love again. Slowly at first, and then more passionately as they lost themselves in each other. Afterwards, while Marie showered, Logan repacked the truck and straightened up Cole's cabin.

Half an hour later, they were on the road. Marie was asleep again, bundled up in his leather jacket using his leg for a pillow. He knew he'd been demanding last night, consumed by desire for her, he'd not allowed her much time for sleeping. With a small self-satisfied smile, he turned the truck north.

Logan realized they were traveling the same road they'd started out on so long ago. In a few hundred miles, they'd pass the place he'd found her. The same place he'd found himself. The place where the present had become more important than the past.

He looked down at his sleeping wife and smiled. This road, their road, wasn't lonely any longer. He knew it wouldn't always be an easy road to travel, and up ahead there would be many unseen twists and turns, but if they were lucky, the road would be long, and together they would find both the bitter and the sweet.

~ The End ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes: I wanted to send a big thank you to everyone who sent me feedback on this one and let me know what they were thinking or how the story made them feel. It does my little writer's heart good and makes my muses stand up and do the happy dance! I'm so glad you all came along for the ride. This was the very first piece of fanfic I ever wrote and it's got a special place in my heart because of that. ;) It might also be a little telling. A 100,000 word first fanfic? Who the hell does that? cRAYze! Ding. ding. We have a winner! lol I know, I know. I need serious help. Heh.
> 
> For those of you who want to know what's next, here's the juice. I'm working madly on my next W/R novel, Run. It just might be the most favorite thing I've written. It's dark, twisty and citrusy. I'm excited to share it, but it's not quite finished yet. In the meantime, up next will be:
> 
> **Holding Ground**  
>  In a post MRA, post Legacy world, Logan and Scott fight to hold on to what little peace they've found. A coming-of-age story. AU 13 chapters (complete)
> 
> After that, the tentative ficcy pipeline looks like:
> 
> **Strip Chocolate**  
>  Logan discovers that not all board games are boring when he and Marie give an adult board game a whirl. 4 (steamy!) chapters. (complete)
> 
> **Run**  
>  "Logan's claws were in her chest. His life force filled her body. His thoughts echoed in her head, shouting one thing over and over. _Run_." She does... and it takes him a decade to catch her again. 30 chapters (nearly done!)
> 
> **Shine Against Me**  
>  Logan and Marie and talk about pornography… and then things get crazy. 20+ chapters (and counting!)
> 
> **Walk the Line**  
>  Marie comes back after taking the Cure. "She'd always defend him though, even now – powerless and helpless, and they both knew it. It didn't even need saying. The care of this beautiful man was written in her bones." 9 chapters (at least 4 more to go)
> 
> Yep. Still certifiable! ;)


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